The Emperor takes a bow, but he has no clothes. His vanity reeks of denial, yet his effervescence emits a heart of gold trapped in a cave. His stumbling blocks are sharp reminders of the price of perfection. As he becomes one with humility his finer qualities emerge, but at this point he is trapped in a whirlwind of destiny unraveling as he helplessly, but confidently catapults into the beginning of the end of the past.
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