Rose Requiem

In twilight's hush, where shadows softly fall, A maiden sits, her beauty stands tall. Her hair, a cascade of roses red and bright, A crown that weaves a tale of love and night. Her skin, a canvas of porcelain pale, Reflects the moon's gentle, silvery gale. The roses at her feet, a scattered throng, Echo the beauty that her presence holds so strong. In this still moment, she is lost in thought, A vision of serenity, as if her soul had caught The whispers of the wind, the secrets of the night, And in their silence, found a peaceful sight. The red roses, like embers of a love now past, Glow softly, a reminder of memories that will forever last. In this darkened space, she is a radiant light, A beacon in the shadows, a guiding star on a silent night. Her beauty is a requiem, a song of love and loss, A melody that echoes through the darkness, a gentle, mournful cross. And as we gaze upon this vision, we are drawn Into the depths of her sorrow, and the beauty that is born.