veena
In silent halls where wisdom reigns, Veena's strings sing ancient strains. Saraswati's muse, divine and pure, In melodies, her grace does endure. Upon her frame, the fingers dance, Unveiling tales of love and chance. Each note a prayer, each chord a rhyme, Echoing through the corridors of time. With gentle touch, the veena sighs, Bridging earth and heavenly skies. In every pluck, a soul's embrace, A glimpse of eternity, a sacred space. Oh, veena, instrument of grace, In your embrace, we find our place. Saraswati's gift, a timeless art, Guiding spirits, touching every heart. Through dusk and dawn, your music flows, In ripples soft, a river that knows, The secrets whispered in the breeze, The dreams that linger 'neath the trees. So let us listen, let us be still, As veena's song our spirits fill. For in her strings, we find our truth, A symphony of love, eternal youth