A rose bush leans against the garden wall,
It blooms a riot of crimson whispers.
Petals soft as lover's lips unfurl,
While beneath, sharp sentinels stand guard.
This beauty bears a double-edged sword,
A paradox of gentle grace and hidden bite.
Velvet petals beckon, "Come closer, friend,"
While thorns hiss, "Beware, keep your distance."
In sunlight, it dances a waltz of shadows,
Casting lace...
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