I stepped inside the hallowed monolith lush with green grass.
Each stone had a story to tell.
Worn out ,they have stood the brunt of time.Some have been ravaged by mother Nature.And some by the hand that created them.
Each block was painstakingly worked upon, laboriously fashioned, technically precisioned,It was a labour of love and passion.
The stones wreathed in agony as they were wedged through with chisels and hammers.
But now stood bereft and forlorn.
Of tales lost.
Of love no more,
Trails of laughter,
Buried deep in stone monoliths.
Of wisps of emotions,
Scattered in gusts of storm.
Of fire of ardor,
Stamped in wrath.
Of truth in bonds,
Enheathed in deceit.
Secrets of past cached,
Hidden from us,
So that we are not ensnared,
To look for keys to unlock hope,
Those pieces of stone,
To those fine etched keys,
For one day,
A new dawn would arise,
When past would unlock,
To usher in the joys of tomorrow.