Rose Requiem

In the depths of slumber, she is crowned with roses, A somber beauty, surrounded by velvet repose. The red blooms, like passionate sighs, enfold her face, As darkness and light entwine in a sacred, silent space. Her lips, a subtle curve, invite the shadows near, While her skin, a canvas, glows with an ethereal sheen. The roses, like guardians of dreams, watch over her rest, Their thorns, a reminder of love's bittersweet nest. In this serene tableau, she is free to roam, In the realm of the heart, where love and sorrow are home. The roses, a symbol of passion, of life and of death, Enfold her in their mystery, a gentle, loving breath. As she sleeps, her spirit soars, untethered and free, In the realm of the unknown, where dreams and reality be. The roses, a chorus, sing a lullaby of love, As she rests, surrounded by beauty, sent from above.