In ancient Ayodhya's golden hue,
Two souls entwined, their love anew.
Prince Rama, noble, strong, and true,
And Sita, grace incarnate, their hearts imbued.

Beneath moon-kissed banyan's shade,
Rama whispered secrets, love displayed.
"Sita," he said, eyes like starlit streams,
"Without you, heaven itself would fade from dreams."

Her smile, a constellation's gentle glow,
She replied, "Rama, our love shall ever flow.
Through forests wild and rivers wide,
You are my universe, my eternal guide."

Exiled they were, destiny's decree,
Fourteen years—a cosmic tapestry.
Yet love, unyielding, their footsteps traced,
In leaf-strewn paths and moonlit space.

Rama, the archer with arrows ablaze,
Shielded Sita from demons' fiery gaze.
She, the lotus blooming in wilderness wild,
Stood by him, steadfast, their love beguiled.

Celestial sage Narada, a witness unseen,
Heard their whispers, the forest's serene.
He marveled at devotion, love's...