Dark Requiem

In twilight's hush, where shadows play, A maiden lies, in dark array, Entwined with thorns, her body's frame, A symbol of life, in death's dark claim. Her eyes, closed, as if in sleep, Her form, a canvas, dark and deep, The thorns that bind, a crown of pain, A beauty born, from sorrow's refrain. The skull below, a mortal's fate, A reminder of life's transient state, The architecture, a backdrop grand, A monument, to a love so lost in land. In this dark art, a story's told, Of love, of loss, of life grown cold, A requiem, for what could never be, A beauty haunting, wild, and free.