Baskadia

In a world of tales, where each heart's a book,

A girl believed, with a hopeful look.

That everyone's the lead in their own rhyme,

She, too, the star in her own sweet time.

Through life's story, she danced with glee,

Her spirit waltzing, wild and free.

She thought, "I'm the main, the shining one,

In the story of life, I'm second to none."

But one day, a twist, a plot untold,

A love story with edges rough and bold.

She glimpsed his eyes, a captivating sight,

Yet, in his world, she was out of sight.

A silent spectator in his life's grand play,

She yearned for words he'd never say.

Her heart, a script of love profound,

Yet to him, she was but a background sound.

She pondered on love, a complex art,

A puzzle missing a crucial part.

In her tale, she played the lead so grand,

Yet in his, she was just grains of sand.

As chapters unfolded, reality dawned,

She wasn't the muse he fondly fawned.

In his narrative, she wore a disguise,

A character she failed to recognize.

Through tears that fell like gentle rain,

She embraced a truth, a quiet pain.

No longer the lead in his love song,

She'd find her strength, she'd carry on.

For in the script of self-discovery,

She'd rewrite lines with fierce esprit.

Acceptance bloomed, a flower true,

In her own story, she'd remain the glue.

No longer the female lead he perceived,

Yet in her tale, she'd not be deceived.

With courage and grace, she'd redefine,

The main character, forever thine.