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. With eyes closed, she breathes the scented night, A somber serenade, a gentle, mournful delight. The roses, like sentinels of love and pain, Guard her repose, a vigil through the heart's deep stain. In this still moment, time itself stands still, As beauty and melancholy entwine, a bittersweet thrill. The roses' beauty is a fleeting, fading light, A reminder that all things must take flight. Yet, in their thorns, a story is told, Of love, of loss, of memories that never grow old. The maiden's heart, a canvas, pure and white, Receives the imprint of life's joys and plight. In rose requiem, she finds a peaceful nest, A place to rest, where love and sorrow are at rest.