a king is crowned on sanctums throne
his robe and crown shine new
this royal youth now halfway grown
to test if crown shines true
as tares find place upon his lands
king welcomes them in grief
he knowing they would test his hands
to keep his tenure brief
as fresh oil soaks his kingly soul
these tares did shred his clothes
yet biting lips that pressed of coal
broke teeth amidst their throes
and trying flesh they could not tear
the thickness of his skin
as scarring from the wars took care
of earthen king within
now naked sits the king at court
for all the world to see
as kingly wares made not the sort
of king he's grown to be...
~Moses Apollo
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