“A long time ago you broke out of the harness.You shook off all restraints.You said, ‘I will not serve!’and off you went,Visiting every sex-and-religion shrine on the way,like a common whore.You were a select vine when I planted youfrom completely reliable stock.And look how you’ve turned out—a tangle of rancid growth, a poor excuse for a vine.Scrub, using the strongest soaps.Scour your skin raw.The sin-grease won’t come out. I can’t stand to even look at you!”God’s Decree, the Master’s Decree.