The priest was wandering in the church garden. He was thinking about a new psalm to win his own competition. Gabriel has already gathered some verses.
When the April rain goes on in May,
May the vile kings fall down the stairs,
Death will come and target his heirs,
And the land be free of bullies this day.
His red cloak was touching the cobblestones while making up his psalm. He was waiting for other competitors to sign in and share their own song.
