Of Love, Legends, and Marble - Taj mahal

In marble mist where Yamuna flows,

A love was carved in moonlit glow,

For Mumtaz, lost to fate’s cruel hand,

He built a dream on silver sand.

 

They say he dreamed a mirrored twin,

A Black Taj where the night begins,

Across the river, dark and still,

To house his soul in death’s own chill.

 

Some whisper hands were sliced and sealed,

So none could shape what love revealed,

Though truth may sleep beneath that lie,

The tale endures, it will not die.

 

In shadowed vaults and buried stone,

Are secrets hushed, forever lone,

They speak of rooms that none may see,

And treasures locked in mystery.

 

An artist’s name from lands afar,

A foreign hand beneath the star,

But Eastern hearts and Persian flame

Have signed this tomb with Shah Jahan’s name.

 

A father's grief, a prisoned king,

Once ruled the world, now pondering

The domed white tomb his sorrows made,

From Agra Fort he watched it fade.

 

And still it breathes through dawn and dusk,

In hues of rose and golden musk,

As if her spirit walks the stone,

So love would never die alone.

Done