Masquerade Enigma

In twilight's hush, where shadows play, Two mystic figures veil their way, Adorned in masks of gold and red, Their secrets hidden, in whispers spread. With eyes cast down, in contemplative grace, They hold a rose, a symbol of their hidden place, The petals worn, the beauty faded, Yet in their mystery, a tale is made. Their attire, a mix of elegance and decay, A blend of the refined and the grotesque at play, The white ruffles, a stark contrast to the red, A dance of light and shadow, on their skin is spread. The gold mask, a symbol of their inner sight, A guardian of their truth, in the dark of night, The red rose, a token of their passion's fire, A burning flame, that their hearts desire. In this enigmatic scene, we find our own, Reflections of the masks we wear, the secrets we've sown, A reminder that beneath the surface, we conceal, Our true selves, hidden, yet revealed.