Epigraph
There comes a time
in every story
where the heroine calls upon her people
to rise.
But this is not that story.
And Sunday? She never lies.
As she looks out upon her people
she sees past the dirt and grim.
She sees the lives lost to ruin.
The hearts corrupted by time.
But hope is not hers to offer.
A truth far sharper than any knife.
So instead of promising relief
she joins them in their strife.
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