Rose Requiem

In twilight's hush, where shadows play, A serene visage, lost in rose-filled day, Her lips, a crimson whisper, softly breathe, As petals dance, in dark, velvety sheathe. The roses, like sentinels of love and pain, Guard her repose, in vigil, silent, and vain. Their red, a symbol of passion's fierce fire, That burns, a slow, and secret, heart's desire. In monochrome, her skin, a canvas lies, A map of dreams, where emotions rise and sigh. The roses, in dark splendor, unfold, A tale of beauty, fleeting, cold. Yet, in their depths, a truth is revealed, A beauty that, in darkness, is concealed. For in the shadows, where love and pain entwine, Lies the essence of a beauty, divine. A beauty that, in stillness, is made known, And in the silence, a heart is made to atone.