Baskadia

In the hush of a dim-lit room,
She sits by the window, lost in gloom,
Soft shadows dance on the walls,
Echoes of laughter now silent calls.

Outside, the world is bright and bold,
But inside her heart, memories unfold—
Whispers of a time that still stings,
Fragile threads of forgotten things.

Each raindrop a tear, each gust a sigh,
She watches the clouds as they drift and fly,
Time etches lines in her young face,
A map of heartache, a trace of grace.

She thinks of the nights when the darkness crept,
Of secrets buried, of promises kept,
How hope flickered like a candle's flame,
Through storms of sorrow, through shadows of shame.

Yet in this moment, with thoughts like a tide,
She breathes in the pain, lets the past reside.
For though the scars may never fade,
In her solitude, a new strength is laid.

With every sigh, she sheds a layer,
The girl by the window, a quiet player,
In a world that spins, she finds her way,
Through the echoes of night into the day.

4o mini