I remember the man at the gate who would not bow.
I counted that against him. He was crying out for his people while I counted my honours. Who knoweth — he knew more than I did.
I cried at the king's gate once, loud and bitter, clothed in sackcloth and ashes.
I wrote to Esther anyway: who knoweth?
She did not know either. She went in.
14 Oct 2026, 23:32
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