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“You remind me of the King,” they say, (in the dream of the palace, they bow and whisper and it feels unclean)
and without a voice (taken, ripped away, never given) they reply, wearily
(No. I am nothing like him.)
The words drown in bitter silence. The burden grows ever heavier.They struggle and straighten their back and bear it, determined to hold it where he could not.
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