Rose Requiem

In slumber, she is crowned with roses, a monarch of dreams. The red blooms, like passionate whispers, surround her, a halo of desire. Her skin, pale as alabaster, glows with an ethereal light, as if the roses' gentle touch has infused her with their essence. The darkness that envelops her is not absence, but presence - the presence of mystery, of the unknown, of the beauty that lies just beyond the veil. In this serene tableau, she is both subject and object, a work of art crafted by the unseen hand of fate. The rose she holds, a symbol of love and loss, whispers secrets to her sleeping form, and she, in turn, whispers back, her dreams a dialogue with the flowers that entwine her.