Our love is that of a red rose,
Whose splendor rises as the sun shows its face,
Whose petals expand further and richer,
Whispering secrets of happiness and affection.
And even though with the fall of dusk,
All contentment is swept away,
And the rose's petals unite as one,
Reflecting any light that may endeavor to shine through,
The sun will always rise,
And the rose's petals will eternally broaden,
Until they fully blossom into a stunning creation.
Our love is that of a red rose,
Possessing a few imperfections,
That may cause evanescent wounds,
But the internal radiance,
That will everlastingly bestow healing and comfort.