Crowning

In the kingdom's sanctuary, atop the regal frame, lies the emblem of sacrifice, the crown's hallowed blame. Nor adorned- with precious jewels- reflecting royal might, even more a symbol of august-authority, a captivating seep of darkness piercing light. O, the crown, a stately jest, replacing HIS due crest, a weight upon the brow, and a blow upon HIS chest. A burden and a blessing, it graces all all allows. But behind the sparkling thorns, a story avowed by Veronica's Veil and a mysterious shroud that spreads wings over the land like a tapestry of identity and title deed over Death and Hell. Of sacrifice and hardship, manifolded for Man in a bleed. The journey, ever burdened, by both heart and hand and blood of gland to seed. The guardian of Man and the seas to land squarely at HIS lap. He doth drink up the seas. For a crown oft conceals the trials of a king, the battles fought within, the tears that cause the mushroom ripple of restoring, need. Each gemstone in a crown holds a memory, etched- in our individual and collective soul, of joys and sorrows, of kingdom’s role, what then more of a crown of thorns? It holds souls in it's symboligy and irony. And as a crown bestows grandeur on a chosen head, it whispers tales of triumphs, and whispers of the once hopeless dead. For love, is a double-edged sword that can rend mountainous rock into a river for a worthy land. It can build splendid kingdoms or leave ruins of heart in unsown empty hand. So, behold ye the one who wore the crown of might and love. For beneath it lay the weight of the World, to bear our plights of sin and bond. Thus, let us not envy the crown HE bore. Instead, let us remember- the heavy share of load and lighten HIS, evermore. If we but listen to his WORD.