Baskadia

In the depths of despair, my soul cries out,
Amidst a sea of faces, none can rout.
In the church's embrace, I found no solace,
Reflecting in the mirror, an empty space.

But then, a phrase from an old sage's tongue,
Blessed with wisdom, where hope had sprung.
I spoke those words, and in that fleeting trance,
All fell silent, in a peaceful dance.

The storm within subsided, the chaos ceased,
In those whispered verses, my soul found peace.
So in the midst of my darkest night,
A beacon of light, restored my sight.