Baskadia

In a quiet town, where dreams take flight,

Lived a boy with eyes of starry light.

His heart yearned for the moon's embrace,

To hold its glow, to feel its grace.

Each night he'd gaze up at the sky,

With a wistful look, a hopeful sigh.

He dreamed of reaching beyond his reach,

To touch the moon upon its breach.

With hands outstretched, he'd reach up high,

As if to pluck it from the sky.

But alas, the moon remained afar,

A distant dream, a shining star.

Yet still, the boy refused to yield,

His determination never sealed.

For in his heart, a fire burned bright,

To chase his dream, to claim his right.

And so he vowed, with steadfast will,

To climb the highest hill and still,

Reach for the moon, no matter how far,

For dreams, he knew, could raise a star.

Though others laughed, and doubted too,

The boy remained undeterred, it's true.

For in his quest, he found his boon,

A spirit unbound, the boy who wants the moon.