asking for Rose

this early morning,in a different time...
walk alone, no one in these street..
i see house that lack, seemingly mistress..
with the none of door, seemingly restless..
i walk inside..
little curious with everything inside..
in the gloaming, i step my feet...
there is a beautiful rose...

i wonder...
then i ask for Rose..
why it does look so pale?
who owner of this?
no one answer..
ever wind closes..
just silence,
in this purity,