Rose Requiem

In twilight's hush, where shadows softly fall, A vision emerges, ethereal, beyond them all. A woman's form, serene, with roses entwined, Her skin, a canvas, pale, with beauty defined. The red roses, like whispers, surround her face, A gentle lover's caress, a tender, secret place. Her eyes, closed, in reverie, or perhaps in sleep, As petals dance, like dreams, in the darkness deep. The roses, a crown, upon her brow, they lay, A symbol of love, in a requiem's gray. In this still moment, time stands still, and fades, As the beauty of the roses, her soul, in shades, Of red and black, a contrast, bold and bright, A beauty, haunting, in the dark of night. The wind, a whisper, through her hair, does stray, As the roses, like tears, fall, in a slow, sweet way. In this, a tale, of love, and loss, is told, A story, of the heart, where roses unfold.