Beneath the moonβs soft, silver glow,
A rose in the garden begins to showβ
Velvet petals, crimson and deep,
A beauty that haunts, a beauty that keeps.
Its fragrance, a spell, pulls the heart near,
Yet whispers of caution echo clear.
βThis bloom is not yours, itβs rooted in ties;
To pluck it would doom, to touch it denies.β
Temptation lingers, sweet and strong,
A melody humming, a sirenβs song.
The thorns gleam sharp, their warning plain,
Yet desire burns, ignoring the ***.
What is it about what isnβt ours,
That draws like moths to forbidden stars?
A fleeting thrill, a hollow chase,
Leaving scars in loveβs sacred space.
Respect the rose, admire its grace,
But know your touch is a dangerous place.
For some treasures shine to teach restraintβ
A reminder that love should honor, not taint.