She Is a Rose

She is a rose,
Brilliant and shining
Radiant red of petals as they blossom,
Outstretching as if to grasp
Everything this world has to offer,
As if to hold
All of the dreams and secrets that overspill,
Dazzling, the sugar-sweet scent
Of hope
And possibilities.
But then, she is a rose
A rose that without sunlight
Without water, or tending
Will wither, losing color.
Falling in on herself, losing those radiant coats
Of daring red
The color of a heart broken
Of a searing passion that has lead to despair.
And she is a rose.
Who even in death, her beauty lies remembered.
Her petals have fallen and her colors fade,
But the memory of her life is for always;
The symbol of what she has stood for cannot be crushed
By the darkness.