A king's crown should be made
of flashing gems, of purest gold,
bright as angel's wings,
stupendous to behold.
They wove his crown of thorns,
prickly as the human heart,
the rose turned hard and cold,
creation ripped apart.
The garden we destroyed,
the mockery borne in our stead,
the torture of our fall,
came down upon his head.
heart-wrenching but oh how true..
ReplyDeletewe took his passion so much for granted..