Rose Requiem

In twilight's hush, where shadows softly fall, A maiden lies, her beauty beyond recall. Her lips, a crimson rose in silent sleep, Invite the darkness, in a mystic deep. Her hair, a tumble of silver-gold, Adorned with roses, red as love's bold. Her eyes, closed to the world's loud din, Dream of secrets, locked within. The roses, like passionate hearts, beat strong, As if her beauty could not be wrong. In this still moment, she reigns supreme, A queen of mystery, a heart that dreams. The red roses whisper tales untold, Of love, of loss, of hearts grown cold. Her beauty is a requiem, a mournful sigh, For all that's lost, and all that's yet to die. Yet, in her stillness, there's a peaceful grace, A sense of surrender to a higher place. Where love and beauty, in darkness shine, And in the shadows, a light divine.