.
Changing her disguise,
lover in liquid lapis,
**** wearing turquoise,
blending serene, frozen,
collecting flirtations,
in green emeralds,
feeding on innocence,
emotion camouflaged,
sacrificed phrases melting,
****** hot tears, crimson,
return to the silence,
and decriminalise sentiment.


© Pagan Paul (2016)

There is no Love.
That is divine.
Without a thorn.
We cannot love.
With the love
of the King of Love.
Without the thorn.
Of death.
Death to Self.
Through forgiveness.
Through pain.
Through loss.
Through letting go.
Of one's own gain.
For the sake of the other.
For the sake of their welfare.
Even to the wounding.
Of one's own soul.

There is no Love.
That is divine.
Without a thorn.
Without setting the other free.
To be who the Man of Thorns
created them to be.

There is no Love.
That is divine.
Without a thorn.

The heart breaks in two.
The hands release.
Unclenched fists.
The beloved one.
Into the hands of God.
Knowing this...
They may never come back.
For they were never ours.
To begin with.

There is no Love.
That is divine.
Without a thorn.

The One who wore
the Crown of Thorns.
Teaches this.
To His own.

There is no Love.
Without.
A Thorn.