I like my rogue allure velvet fading through the day

From color block to reddish stain

I like it the best at the end of the day

It’s saturating bold not a pinkish plain

Dry flowers gleaming glory

It darkens, their petals crispy

They don’t come as mild

Agile, then give in to the wild

Their fragility blooms

In gory colored flakes

Their youth is not born

It protrudes

from brightness that fades