The script of my life, penned by a Mastercraftsman,
Who designed my life's blueprint,
Before time's foundation,
Cradled in adoring arms, deepest affection,
Shown a pathway, as clear as noon's light,
But I washed my feet with heretics,
Casting my lot in with them,
Overpowering the voice of reason,
I fiddled with them of no repute,
As the Relevant One watched in silence,
Shunned the evident sorrows written,
I long to free myself of those vigilant eyes,
My moment of reprieve was granted,
And I leaped for joy like a gazelle,
Finally free to...