Fiery Rose

It burns its way out of wood resembling a fiery rose, and penetrates the gloom with gleams and bloom. It murmurs ceaselessly, its breath an autumnal aroma, with the finesse of melancholic nostalgia. It contemplates constellations, its eyes a myriad of reflective lanterns. It rises and rises gallantly like a summoned Phoenix, sparkles and sways, as if in delirium. Its blaze an avalanche of petals, the color of sunset, the perfume of ethereal catharsis.