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English Chronicles 2025 26printed 14 · PDF 24
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printed 14 · PDF 24
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A Mughal Whisper in Lahore’s Walls
These walls are not silent; they hum with the past,
A melody timeless, a song meant to last.
Their arches and carvings, a history’s frame,
Each brick holds a whisper, each stone bears a name.
The Badshahi Mosque, a prayer in stone,
Its domes rising high, where faith stands alone.
The gardens of Shalimar bloom with old grace,
A Mughal’s love letter etched into this space.
Minar-e-Pakistan, though newer, still hears,
The echoes of battles, the laughter, the tears.
The Ravi flows softly, its waters now frail,
A witness to stories too grand to curtail.
The bazaars of Lahore, alive in their flair,
Hold whispers of traders whose wealth filled the air.
From silk to spices, from art to decree,
The Mughal age flourished, a reign proud and free.
But not all was splendor; the whispers do tell,
Of struggles and loss where proud empires fell.
The calligraphy etched on the mosque’s mighty face,
Speaks quietly still of divine human grace.
Oh Lahore, oh Mughal, your whispers endure,
Through ages of change, your beauty is pure.
AC Chronicles
14