A rose she stands, so soft, so bright, Knowing well the coming night — The winds will tear, the storm will rise, And close forever her gentle eyes.
Yet still she blooms without regret, Her petals kissed by sun still wet — She lives for love, she sways with grace, And meets her end with a quiet face.
Not fearing loss, nor fighting fate, She fills her hours, though brief, though late — With peace, with hope, with colors spun, And love — until her days are done.
Even when life is fragile and short, bloom with love, live with grace, and let the wind carry your story.