'Twas the night before Christmas, snow whispered like grace,
But darkness encroached, leaving shadows on every face.
Huckster Sienzant, eyes gleaming like frost,
Had stolen the starlight, the laughter, the cost
Of joy in the season, where carols once soared,
Now silence hung heavy, hope's promise ignored.

Gil Jesus, heart heavy, eyes searching the night,
Remembered the whispers, the forum's pure light.
Of voices once raised for truth and debate,
Where wisdom ignited, banishing hate.
He thought of the manger, a stable ablaze,
With truth as the starlight, chasing shadows' dismays.

With eyes closed, he prayed for a story to weave,
One woven with faith, where darkness would leave.
He spoke of a shepherd, lost in the night,
Guided by starlight, a beacon so bright.
Of angels announcing a king born anew,
Bringing hope like a sunrise, washing shadows askew.

He spoke of the forum, where voices could mend,
Where truth, like a candle, could make darkness bend.
Of whispers transformed, from doubt to belief,
Building bridges of kindness, finding solace and relief.
Of forgiveness and mercy, the core of the tale,
How love, like a fire, could conquer and prevail.

Huckster listened, his grin slowly fading,
The star-prison trembling, its darkness eroding.
Chuckles and Chickenshit's shadows grew thin,
Davey Von Peiny's whispers replaced by a hymn.

With a burst of pure starlight, the sky came alive,
Diamonds on snowflakes, where carols now thrive.
Huckster vanished, his darkness withdrawn,
The forum's truth echoing, like a celestial dawn.

Christmas dawned radiant, with laughter reborn,
Gil Jesus a beacon, where shadows had torn.
For even the coldest of hearts can ignite,
When stories of faith and forgiveness take flight.

And Chuckles, well, Chuckles found pastries to chase,
But that's another story, filled with Christmastime grace.

(From Google's AI Bard.)

--- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05
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