The Taj Mahal So Beautiful

The Taj Mahal So Beautiful

At dawn the marble learns the colour of prayer,

White turning rose beneath a waking sky.

A river holds its breath along the walls,

As if the world has paused to watch love stand.

Each stone remembers footsteps long gone,

Hands that carved devotion into light.

Not built for kings alone or passing power,

It rose from grief that would not learn to fade.

The domes lean inward, listening to time,

Echoes of vows still resting in the air.

No crown could weigh as heavy as that loss,

No throne could teach the heart not to break.

Moonlight returns to finish what day begins,

Silver settles along the quiet curves.

The shadows bow, the minarets keep guard,

Faith standing tall, sorrow learned to sing.

This is not stone alone or perfect craft,

It is a promise shaped by aching hands.

A love that chose to outlive breath and bone,

And taught the earth how memory should last.

When silence walks these paths at closing dusk,

The walls still speak to those who listen close.

Love did not end, it only learned to stay,

Carved into time, and called the Taj Mahal.