Eternal Rose Whisper

In the embrace of crimson petals, she rests, A vision of timeless beauty, a silent testament. The roses, vibrant and alive, cradle her form, Their thorns a paradox of pain and grace, A metaphor for life's duality, love and strife. Her eyes, closed in repose, speak of secrets untold, Of dreams that linger in the shadows of night. The red, a canvas of passion and mystery, Dances with the light, creating a world of its own. She is the keeper of secrets, the guardian of dreams, A symbol of resilience, a beacon of hope. In her stillness, we find our own reflection, A mirror to our souls, a reminder of what we hold dear. The roses, her crown, her armor, her sanctuary, Speak of love, of loss, of the eternal cycle of life. She is the eternal rose whisper, a tale untold, A poem in red, a symphony of the heart.