This is purely under friction but feel the depthness of Urmila's broad mindedness
Urmila, the younger one of Sita the princess of Mithila, a kingdom famous for its value for culture woke up from sleep. The long eleven years she was sleeping. YES!
When Rama the king went for voyage with his wife and her husband, she never objected it. Instead, she was obliged to send her husband after his brother. She was purer, in fact the purest among the sisters. But always everyone valued Sita.
Here I am with a poem that depict Urmila, her purity, her serenity.
In the quiet shadow of the forest's grace,
Where ancient tales and echoes intertwine,
There dwells a story of a gentle face,
A sister’s love, pure as the sacred vine.
Urmila, her name, a whisper soft,
In realms of legends, where her virtues shine,
With Sita’s grace, her heart aloft,
She bore a burden, one of pain refined.
To Ayodhya's realm, her lord did part,
With Lakshmana’s vow to walk the path of strife,
And so she stayed, with heavy heart,
To cradle silence, sacrifice her life.
Eleven years, in a slumber deep,
She chose to dream while love and duty roamed,
For while the world in its restless keep,
Her silent vigil kept her spirit honed.
Her sacrifice, a poignant, unseen song,
In shadows cast by duty’s solemn light,
Her purity and strength so deeply strong,
A testament to courage, hidden from the night.
Her story’s threads are woven in the past,
A tale of love where duty holds its reign,
Urmila's heart, though touched by pain so vast,
Remains a beacon through the ages' chain.
Dr Dear
Urmila, the younger one of Sita the princess of Mithila, a kingdom famous for its value for culture woke up from sleep. The long eleven years she was sleeping. YES!
When Rama the king went for voyage with his wife and her husband, she never objected it. Instead, she was obliged to send her husband after his brother. She was purer, in fact the purest among the sisters. But always everyone valued Sita.
Here I am with a poem that depict Urmila, her purity, her serenity.
In the quiet shadow of the forest's grace,
Where ancient tales and echoes intertwine,
There dwells a story of a gentle face,
A sister’s love, pure as the sacred vine.
Urmila, her name, a whisper soft,
In realms of legends, where her virtues shine,
With Sita’s grace, her heart aloft,
She bore a burden, one of pain refined.
To Ayodhya's realm, her lord did part,
With Lakshmana’s vow to walk the path of strife,
And so she stayed, with heavy heart,
To cradle silence, sacrifice her life.
Eleven years, in a slumber deep,
She chose to dream while love and duty roamed,
For while the world in its restless keep,
Her silent vigil kept her spirit honed.
Her sacrifice, a poignant, unseen song,
In shadows cast by duty’s solemn light,
Her purity and strength so deeply strong,
A testament to courage, hidden from the night.
Her story’s threads are woven in the past,
A tale of love where duty holds its reign,
Urmila's heart, though touched by pain so vast,
Remains a beacon through the ages' chain.
Dr Dear
You are so artistic...
