A beautiful poem by my niece Eden.
Taj The Beautiful
A gem in white
A gift of love,
It sits amidst clouds of fog.
One will stare, in awe,
Marveled by its beauty
Fascinated by the intricate patterns that are engraved in the precious stone.
A ray of light will appear from behind
As the orange morning star emerges
It sheds light on the truth,
The reason this artistry exists,
Making her death, seem the most beautiful part of life.
Making their love seem immortal,
Which it is.
The tomb, is a symbol of passion,
The structure’s excellence, powerful enough hold it, through anything,
But not as strong as the passion that created it.
So it stands,
Protected by the everlasting devotion,
It is the Taj Mahal.