The Vision of Mirzabad
In the land where the river bends, Where the mountains meet the skies, There stood a palace, grand and vast, A vision born of whispered sighs. Mirzabad, the city crowned, Its towers high, the walls unbound. A kingdom built upon a dream, Where time and space do not redeem. The air was thick with incense sweet, A scent of flowers at the feet, And by the river, swift and deep, The waters roared as if to weep. From the hills to the plains below, The land was lush with verdant glow. And in the shadows, deep and wide, The secrets of the earth did hide. The moon above, a silver disk, Did pierce the sky with light so brisk. Its glow upon the palace spire Set the night alight with fire. Within the walls, the vision grew, A place of dreams, both old and new. A thousand voices whispered tales, Of forgotten gods and ancient spells. The emperor, clad in gold and jade, Sat high upon his jeweled shade. His eyes were deep, his mind a maze, And in his gaze, the world did ha...