We are chosen; They, he spurned
And for his choice, They will be burned.
We, he loves, but Them he hates,
And They, We say, are all ingrates.
They, the wicked, We, the saved.
Our hate is love, Their love depraved.
Since We are good, They cannot be;
All paths but Ours, apostasy.
We know his mind, We've seen his light.
Their minds are gloomed in evil's night.
We happy few are Sister, Brother.
They are nothing. They are Other.
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