For want of a crown

For want of a crown,

I killed God's son;

hailed Him with unrelenting loathe

as He bled under the Sun.

Now I glorify the holes I pierced,

basking in my love so fierce,

revelling in my faith renowned,

all for want of a crown.

I pursued His suffering on the cross,

yet fear need I not, for hate is lost

in witnessing His grace of might,

enough to quiet shameful plight.

For it is Love that's dripping down His brow,

now I can see His crown.

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