Underneath the silvered moon's embrace,
We linger in a garden, time erased.
A whispered word, your voice a spell,
Each fleeting moment, my heart's carousel.
Oh, love, you're the art I long to hold,
A canvas painted in hues of gold.
A fleeting rose, yet your thorns remain,
Beauty eternal, sweet with pain.
In your eyes, a tragedy plays,
A tale of longing, a lover's maze.
We are but actors in fate's cruel jest,
Yet in your arms, I find my rest.
Oh, love, you're the art I long to hold,
A canvas painted in hues of gold.
A fleeting rose, yet your thorns remain,
Beauty eternal, sweet with pain.