Rose Requiem

In the depths of crimson, a vision lies, A woman's face, a rose's sighs. Soft petals dance upon her skin, As if the flowers and she are kin. Her lips, a rosebud's promise keep, A tender touch, a secret sleep. The roses, like sentinels of old, Guarding the beauty that they hold. In this still moment, time stands tall, As if the world had heard her call. The red roses, like passion's flame, Illuminate the beauty, the heart's name. In this serene and mystic scene, The woman's peace, the roses' sheen, A harmony of form and hue, A symphony, both old and new. The red roses, a symbol true, Of love, of passion, and of beauty anew.