Where the dying roses blossom

There's a world where dying roses grow,
each shudder out one final bloom.
Their petals glow at midnight's sigh
underneath the orange moon.

This is the land where poets get lost.
They fall under the tide of the moon's glow.
Dance with the beams in pure puzzlement,
with nary a promise of tomorrow.

So many die of a broken heart,
plunged into the dark that is there.
Moonlight snaps out in one brilliant breath
and all that's left is the roses' bright glare.

Too many die here
in the moonlight's bright gleam.
The roses are quite lovely,
but lovely is ne'er what it seems.

**Thanks to Amanda for inspiring this with the title of her PM. :)**