Our love is that of a red rose
Whose splendor rises as the sun shows its face,
Whose petals expand further and richer
Whispering secrets of happiness and affection.
And even though with the fall of dusk
All contentment is swept away,
And the rose's petals unite as one
Reflecting any light that may endeavor to shine through,
The sun will always rise
And the rose's petals will eternally broaden
Until they fully blossom into a stunning creation.
Our love is that of a red rose
Possessing a few imperfections
That may cause evanescent wounds,
But the internal radiance
That will everlastingly bestow healing and comfort.
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Strega
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