Warmth splattered his forehead then crimsoned his t-shirt and bent knee. Looking up, his eyes locked with those of this warmth’s home.
In that moment they exchange a lifetime.
Then the King closed his eyes amidst shouts of “Assassin!” and dismay.
The Son rose unto glory, His bent knee complete, His t-robe exchanged.
These two we commemorate today.
Pity we have not exceeded their realistic expectations.
