Her name is Scarlet,
a beautiful rose.
She is like poetry,
and not prose.

Beside the streetlight,
glowing of amber.
With her iconic coat,
she starts to wander.

Her heart is ablaze,
like a dancing inferno.
Thrilled with adventure,
and euphoria for tomorrow.

A staircase to nowhere,
and she runs high.
Fearing the unknown,
but still choosing to fly.

Beyond the veil:
a gateway to time.
Marvelous and profound,
it was celestial with rhyme.

And her name is Scarlet,
a beautiful rose.
A mystery from the stars,
and from there she goes.