Returning from war, the king returns home in triumph. Riding his white steed, his golden, intricate armor glistened under the sun as his men followed behind him. His blood red cape hung on his armor; representing the blood he shed that was now behind him, left in the fields if battle. Banner flags raised in glory, they all marched through the city's gates and streets.

Women, wearing fresh flower crowns, all about running to catch a close look to praise and bless the king and his men. Throwing flower petals around, soft pink and red petals rained around the returned king and men. Cheering and clapping, smiles of the citizens, children and men about all congratulated the triumphant return. Surrounded by riches the king was, petals, flowers...All eyes were on the king. His men behind all at strong, proud stand on their horses' backs. Marching down to the heart of the city as everyone followed. Watching from the streets or high on buildings, their balconies or the small bridges above.

But the king, his eyes were not on the them. Acclaimed by all, yet his eyes had found the sight of Christ. On the cross, his eyes were on Christ - he may have a crown on his head, but the only crown was the one Jesus Christ wore.

"How can I face you after the sea of blood I shed?" Were the words that repeated in the king's head as he kept staring at Jesus on the cross. Not at the praises. Not at the flowers that littered the path he walked upon. Not the women who ran up besides his horse to marvel at him and his men...

Staring at the crucifix with a reverent yet longing looking, his brows furrowed together...his eyes on the crucifix until it long passed him; no longer able to see as Christ was behind his back. Away from his eyes to see - he almost turned his head back to catch the sight of Him once more, but kept his head up and forwards. His gauntlets crunching as he tightened his grip on the reins as he stared forwards, as he paraded through the city streets.