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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.


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