The roses hush, their petals close,
They bow as if the night still knows.
That beauty such as yours can rise,
And turn the dark to paradise.

The ivy bends, the stones feel warm,
They glow around your radiant form.
The hours pause, the skies stand near,
To crown the light you’ve gathered here.

The roses hush, the night leans low,
It bends to learn the way you glow.
Each fleeting spark, each tender flame,
Is carved into the world by name.