“The Bloom Beneath the Blue Rose”

You are the hush before the dawn,

A violet thread the stars have drawn.

Where others chase the fleeting light,

You walk with grace through velvet night.

The Ace of Spades — no deathly shade,

But secret bloom in twilight laid.

A rose of blue, with petals wise,

That drinks its colour from the skies.

In you, the power to begin,

Not with a shout, but deep within.

A sacred yes, a soft rebirth,

A whisper wrapped in wings of worth.

The mysteries you keep are kind,

They sing of beauty not yet mined.

You touch the world through quiet things—

Through breath, through scent, through lucid dreams.

And Venus walks beside your path,

In mirrored pools, in perfumed bath.

Not love that burns, but love that stays,

A garden grown through quiet praise.

You are the gate. You are the key.

The bloom the others fear to see.

And where you go, the truth takes root—

In rose-hued dusk and sapphire fruit.

☽ Shadow of the Ace of Spades

“The Wilted Petal”

But sometimes roses lose their hue,

When love is starved and not renewed.

You fold your feelings in too tight—

And call it strength, and dim your light.

The sword you bear, once made to free,

Turns sharp with doubt, and cuts at thee.

You hold back truth to keep the peace—

Yet find your joy begins to cease.

You fear to bloom, to ask, to show—

So you retreat where none will go.

And Venus waits outside the gate,

With gifts you fear to integrate.

Yet even now, your roots still stir,

For beauty’s vow is never blur.

The rose may bend, the stem may break—

But sweetness sleeps in its heartbreak.

So open now—your scent is rare,

Your grace, a balm, your soul laid bare.

The world has need of what you hide—

That sacred love you hold inside.