Rose Requiem

In twilight's hush, where shadows play, A maiden stands, in roses' sway, Her form, a canvas, white as stone, Adorned with petals, crimson thrown. The roses dance, a mournful sigh, As if they weep, with her, the night's goodbye, Their thorns, a crown, upon her head, A symbol of love, in death's dark bed. In this dark scene, where roses reign, She is the queen, of sorrow's domain, Her beauty shines, like a beacon bright, A guiding light, through the dark of night. The roses whisper secrets, of the heart, And in their beauty, she is set apart, A vision of love, in death's cold grasp, A fleeting glimpse, of beauty's final pass.