Rose Requiem

In slumber, she is crowned with roses red, A beauty veiled, in petals softly spread. Her lips, a crimson whisper, closed in rest, A moment's peace, in love's eternal nest. The roses, like dark sentinels of night, Guard her repose, a vigil of delight. In this still scene, where shadows softly fall, Her beauty shines, beyond them all. The roses, red as passion, red as fire, Enfold her, in their sweet, perfumed desire. In this tableau, where art and dream entwine, She is the rose, and the rose is divine. A moment captured, in time's fleeting stream, A beauty that, in memory, will forever gleam. The roses, like memories, cling to her hair, A bittersweet reminder, of love beyond compare. In this serene, and dreamlike state, She is the essence, of love's eternal fate.