Eternal Flame

In the heart of darkness, a soul ignites, A crimson rose blooms where shadows reside. Her gaze, a mirror of the infinite, Reflects the fire that burns within her sight. The red of her hair, a tempest of passion, Whispers secrets of love and of passion. Her form, a silhouette against the void, A beacon of hope in the night's embrace. The roses at her feet, a symbol of life, A testament to the strength of her strife. They bloom in defiance of the dark, A reminder that beauty can never be stark. She sits in stillness, yet her spirit soars, A silent rebellion against the forces of yore. Her presence, a paradox of calm and might, A reminder that light can conquer the night. In her eyes, the universe is held, A tapestry of stars, where dreams are unfurled. She is the eternal flame, unyielding, unbound, A symbol of hope in the world's profound. For in her, we see ourselves, in our trials and triumphs, A reflection of the human spirit's eternal ripples. She stands as a reminder, in the face of despair, That beauty and strength can always repair.