NOT DEAD YET!

I wanted to scream it at the ignorant asses who painted his portrait in reverent gray whilst others preen in living color. Still worse his image looms unframed but by the mists of legend while theirs' is the neat square of the annual.

How dare they?!

How dare they bury the living under presumed praise?

Today he is yet breathing, feeling, thinking, suffering, sinning in the shadow of fame's glare. Their breath is better spent in prayer at this the hour of their idol's greatest temptation. On this battle the angel's eyes are fixed. The rest was only circus with a taste of Bread, but this is Incarnation.

Let roll on the puppies' praise to some other artful clown, while saints and angels add their prayer to his that he might win the crown.