I do not like the shape of your temple.
The doors and arches are too narrow
the steps are too high, the halls aren’t ample
it thrusts me aside, it does not invite
something about it doesn’t feel quite right
the pillar’s all wrong, the walls don’t seem strong
the chants don’t carry the public along
and the whole foundation’s shallow.
I think I’ll stay home. I’ll look for my deity
in some other place outside your city
less discriminatory, with a kinder story,
where exclusivity isn’t mandatory
and anyone can come and go.