Rose Requiem

In twilight's hush, where shadows softly fall, A maiden lies, entwined with roses' call. Her lips, a crimson whisper, beckon near, As petals dance, like lovers, in the darkened air. Her eyes, closed to the world's loud, jarring din, Drink in the silence, and the roses' perfume within. In this still scene, where beauty holds its breath, The roses' velvet softness is her gentle death. Yet, in their depths, a tale of love is told, Of passion's flame, that burns, young and bold. The roses cling, like tender, loving hands, To her pale skin, in a dark, floral band. In this, a requiem, for love's lost, fleeting grace, The roses weep, in a sorrowful, sweet embrace. And as the shadows deepen, and the night grows cold, The maiden's beauty, in the roses, is forever told.