It seems simply acceptable.  What they call freedom is made of steel reinforced concrete.  Bars of heat-treated platinum encase their hearts.  And they perceive no evil.

Men parade their pride.  Even their humility is a prison.  Acceptable is tempered with human understanding.  Aspirations reach only the top hair on their head.  And their feet plod in the mud of sins up to their knees.

Women dress to entice.  Yet they consider their attire necessary.  Human beauty is the standard.  But it is only a mask to hide a sickly soul.

Where is freedom?  It remains in Heaven.  Who aspires to be free?  Who yearns to shed this cell of acceptable human behavior?  Let them show their desire.  Let them stand out among the crowd of prisoners,

If we must dress for social occasion, let us dress with our fellow-men and women in mind.  If we must speak, let it be as if before the Holy Throne of God.

The bars can be swung wide open.  For many, the bars stand away from latching.   Yet they remain inside.  Who is free?  Who can count moments in the Sun?  Yet who counts the darkness of that cell as daylight?