Source: Wikipedia.com
He built a monument that time could never erase,
A palace of marble, a symbol of love and grace.
For Mumtaz, his queen, his heart's only home,
He raised the Taj Mahal, where memories would forever roam.
He ruled an empire, commanded every throne,
Yet fate had written a story of a different tone.
The hands he once held, he had taught to rise,
Would one day leave him imprisoned, beneath familiar skies.
No royal court, no crown of gold,
No loyal kingdom left to hold.
The emperor who once commanded a thousand men,
Now watched the world through the windows of his prison.
Beyond those walls, the Taj stood tall,
A silent witness to his rise and fall.
The tomb of his beloved, shining in white,
Was all that remained to comfort his sight.
Eight years passed in silence and pain,
No crown returned, no power regained.
And when his final breath slipped away,
They laid him beside Mumtaz, where love would forever stay.
He built the Taj to immortalise his love,
But never imagined what fate had in store.
The world remembers the monument he made,
But what of the emperor who died behind its shade?
He conquered kingdoms,
but could not conquer time.
He built a monument to love,
yet became a prisoner of his own bloodline.