In the shadow of the moon’s gentle grace,
Where whispers of the night softly trace,
Lies a love unbound by time’s cruel art,
A tale spun by Wilde’s fervent heart.

Among the roses, fragrant and bold,
Stories of passion and dreams unfold,
Each petal a verse, each thorn a line,
Crafted by hands both tender and divine.

Beneath the stars, where secrets reside,
He painted love with words that abide,
In every glance, a promise untold,
In every touch, a warmth uncontrolled.

Oh, Wilde, your love, an eternal flame,
Burns bright in every lover’s name,
A timeless echo, forever to be,
In the heart’s chamber, wild and free.