image/jpeg | Jan 23, 2024 at 5:54 PM | 6 edition(s)

In a hall of whispers and time-worn brick, Stands a lady in red, her presence thick, With the poise of a queen, a solitary figure, A dance with her shadow, a silent snicker. Her gown flows like the river’s rush, In a world standing still, hushed, With eyes like midnight’s deepest seas, She holds her own secrets, her silent pleas. The scarlet fabric in her gentle clutch, Speaks of passion that's felt much, In the embrace of walls that have seen, Ages pass, where many have been. She, a flame amidst the ashen past, With a beauty designed to forever last, In a room where echoes come to play, Her scarlet dance takes the breath away. A mystery wrapped in crimson fold, Her story is the one untold, In the hall of whispers, she stands alone, A vibrant life, in stillness, shown.