Rose Requiem

In twilight's hush, where shadows softly fall, A vision stirs, veiled in roses' dark call. Her face, a canvas of serene repose, Echoes the beauty that only silence knows. With eyes closed, as if in reverent sleep, She dreams of worlds where love and sorrow creep. The red roses, like passionate whispers, surround, A floral shroud that gently wraps around. In this still moment, time itself stands still, As if the world, in reverence, holds its breath and will. The roses, dark and vibrant, a symbol true, Of love's fierce beauty, and the heart anew. In this portrait, a tale of love is spun, A narrative of passion, forever young. The soft, white skin, a contrast to the red, A delicate balance, in the heart, is fed. The roses' thorns, a reminder of love's pain, A bittersweet reminder, of love's refrain. In this image, a story of love is told, A tale of passion, forever to unfold.