Rose Requiem

In slumber, she is crowned with roses, her lips a fiery kiss. The red blooms entwine her hair, a passionate, floral caress. Her skin, a canvas of serene beauty, glows with soft, ethereal light. The roses, like rubies, burn with inner fire, a symbol of love's fierce might. In this stillness, she is free, her spirit unbound and wild. The roses, her gentle companions, guard her dreams, and keep her smile. Her lips, a promise of secrets, a whispered tale of love and heartache. In the darkness, the roses shine, a beacon of hope, a guiding light. This is her sanctuary, a place of peace, where love and beauty entwine. Here, she is the rose, and the rose is she, a union of flesh and flower. In this quiet, she finds solace, a refuge from the world's loud din. The roses, like sentinels of love, watch over her, and keep her safe within. Their beauty is a reflection of her own, a mirrored soul, a heart that beats. In the stillness, she is reborn, her spirit renewed, her love revived.