Midnight Elegy

In the shadowed light, she stands alone, Her dark hair a cascade, like night's own throne. The roses, red as passion's burning fire, In her hands, a symbol of heart's deepest desire. Her eyes, closed in contemplation, a soul on fire, A heart that beats with sorrow, and a spirit that aspires. The lace upon her dress, a delicate, ethereal frame, For the beauty that she holds, a treasure to proclaim. In this moment, she is lost, yet found, A paradox of darkness and light, a beauty unbound. The world around her fades, a blurred, gray haze, As she succumbs to the roses' sweet, seductive gaze. Her lips, a whispered promise, a sigh of longing deep, A heart that yearns for connection, a soul that seeks to keep. In this stillness, she finds a strange, quiet peace, A sense of being, a moment to release.