Thorns Amongst Roses
Amidst the beauty of our rose, thorns of sorrow deeply press,
A pain entwined with every bloom, in beauty there’s distress.
Yet through the hurt, a truth emerges, strong and crystal clear,
Love’s deepest cuts are also where, our bonds most true appear.
With every prick, with every sting, our hearts are tested, tried,
And in this garden bittersweet, our love is purified.
Ache of Yearning
Love is not merely soft and sweet, but sharp and edged with pain,
Like rain that falls from heavy clouds, both nurturing and vain.
It cuts and carves through stony hearts, with rivers deep and wide,
Where pain and joy commingle, there our love does abide.
In every ache, a lesson learned, in every tear a tale,
Through stormy seas and tempests wild, our ship shall ever sail.
Heart’s Torment
My painful love, a thorn so deep,
In every moment, my heart does weep.
With every touch, with every sigh,
My love endures, though tears I cry.
In love’s own grip, I feel the ache,
My heart in sorrow, a constant quake.
With every memory, with every tear,
My painful love, so pure, so dear.
Through shadows dark and nights so long,
My love persists, a mournful song.
In every whisper, in every plea,
My painful love, forever with me.
Yet through the pain, a light does shine,
My love endures, forever thine.
