Eternal Rose Whisper

In the embrace of crimson petals, she rests, A vision of grace, a symphony of light. Her eyes, closed in a dream of timeless beauty, Speak of secrets whispered to the night. The red roses, vibrant and alive, Cradle her like a crown of thorns and love. Each petal a story, each stem a thread, Weaving the tapestry of her soul above. Her hair, a cascade of moonlit waves, Dances with the shadows, a silent ballet. The contrast of black and white, a canvas, Where her essence blooms, a paradox of fate. She is the keeper of mysteries untold, The guardian of dreams where shadows play. In her gaze, we find our own reflection, A mirror to the soul, a path to stay. The red curtain, a backdrop of passion, Shrouds her in a veil of mystery deep. She is the eternal rose whisper, A muse who speaks in dreams, in sleep.