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Agra Tales

Majestic as it stood. showcased by the ever-rising sun
Without registering the much desired emotional response, I approached with wide eyes
The kind of smoke-stained eyes you’d see at 6am in the Indian summer
Captured imagery and imagination could not encompass what laid before me
And yet I was left wanting more
As if the thirst of my childlike idealisation had not been quenched
Perhaps my self-composed recluse
Personified by tales of a fallen fabled foe
Where reasons for my anticlimactic rise
Are left to let the alter-ego glow

Surrounded by the symmetry of the shadowed wondrous behold
Where the voices in your head speak in riddle
As the lawless rules of time runs linear as if by will
Before their eyes they’ll see the fallen
The inter-dimensional sphere of solitude.

7 thoughts on “Agra Tales

  1. That gave me all kinds of butterflies. Beautiful imagery.
    “And yet I was left wanting more
    As if the thirst of my childlike idealisation had not been quenched…”
    Gorgeous.

  2. I saw the Taj years ago now and was still impressed after so many expectations. It was an early morning too. Maybe it was still glowing white! Your poem reminds me of this and our idealisations and expectations when we travel and sometimes this masks the beauty that is before us of a past gone age and yes we always search for something more. Great poems.

    • Thanks for taking the time to read and to comment, I hope your experience was as beautiful as my own and then some. You speak the truth in what you say and for that I thank you for passing on this thoughtful wisdom.
      – Cal

  3. I have never been able to put into words what I felt while looking at the Taj, but this covers most of those feelings. Very beautiful. I really liked that you didn’t have to mention the Taj for me to understand what you were talking about and connect with your words.

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