Rose Requiem

In the swirling vortex of her hair, a tale unfolds, A dance of shadows, where light and darkness hold. The roses, like crimson tears, fall from above, A poignant serenade, a lover's labor of love. Her face, a canvas of alabaster, smooth and bright, A vision of beauty, in the soft, ethereal light. The wind whispers secrets, as her tresses flow free, A mystic melody, that beckons you to see. In this fleeting moment, she is lost in her dreams, A world of her own, where love and sorrow gleam. The roses, like rubies, shine with inner fire, A symbol of passion, that never tires. In this portrait, she is reborn, a goddess of old, A timeless beauty, forever to be told.