A bird was sitting on a porch
Lonely as could be
She say (in the distance) a bright red torch
And flew, so she could see
The torch grew bigger as she flew
The air began to warm
There was nothing she could do
Something was out of the norm
Closer and closer and closer she went
Attempting to better see
To the torch her time she lent
The bird flew with slowly dying glee
The torch grew read and reader still
As the bird flew to its light
Never expecting its power to kill
Until it were to late, the torch used all its might
It engulfed and swallowed her whole
And controlled body and mind
It totally took over the dealings of her soul
Despite the fact it looked so kind
Obvious was its name
But only the wise could see
Trickery was its game
Religion will not kill me!