Rose Requiem

In the whispering shadows, she stands alone, A vision in white, with roses as her throne. The wind whispers secrets in her flowing hair, As red petals surround her, a passionate lair. Her dress, a cascade of silk, a gentle breeze, Dancing with the roses, in a silent ease. The archway behind, a mysterious embrace, A doorway to dreams, a sacred, secret place. With every glance, a story unfolds, Of love, loss, and beauty, young and old. The roses, a symbol of passion's fire, A flame that burns bright, a heart's greatest desire. In this moment, she is free and serene, A queen of roses, in a world unseen. The roses, a requiem, for love's sweet pain, A reminder of joy, and love's refrain.