Midnight Rose Elegy

In the shadowed light, she stands alone, Her dark hair cascading like the night's own tone. The roses, red as passion's burning flame, In her hands, a symbol of love's eternal claim. Her eyes, downcast, veil a soul so deep, A world of emotions, in silent vigil, she keeps. The lace upon her dress, a delicate shroud, Contrasts with the vibrant blooms, avowed. In this moment, she is lost in thought, Her heart, a canvas, where love and sorrow are brought. The railing, cold and metallic, a stark divide, Between her world and the darkness outside. Yet, in her solitude, there's a beauty rare, A mystique that beckons, beyond compare. The roses, a bouquet of love and pain, A reflection of the heart's complex refrain. In her stillness, a story unfolds, Of love, loss, and the beauty that never grows old.