Rose Requiem

In twilight's hush, where shadows play, A vision emerges, lost in red rose array. Her face, a canvas, pale and still, Eyes closed, as petals softly fill. The world outside recedes, and all is red, A sea of roses, where she lies, half-dead. Her lips, a crimson whisper, barely there, Invite the darkness, with a gentle air. The roses, like tears, fall from above, Bathing her in their sorrow, a labor of love. In this dark, floral womb, she finds her peace, A refuge from the world's loud, jarring release. The red roses, like passion's flames, now low, Illuminate her skin, with a soft, ethereal glow. In death's dark veil, she finds a beauty rare, A rose requiem, beyond compare.