I have seen falling stars in the eyes of shadows

I have seen falling stars in the eyes of shadows, dancing on the dark sky of unspoken words. I have stood in ballrooms filled with sculpted smiles, hiding glass daggers in velvet pockets. I have shaken hands that seemed like contracts with forgotten spirits, promising loyalty that evaporates into subtle betrayals. I have seen good men bend under the weight of expectations, turning into shadows because it's easier to get lost. But me? I remained a dreamer with a heart of gold, not soft like silver, not naive like a rainbow, but real like a tree in a storm, perhaps foolishly real. I refused to sell my soul for dirty illusions. They laughed, said I wouldn't get far, without cutting corners of truth, sharpening my smile. But I didn't come to play a role in the theater of shadows, I came to live a life that wouldn't leave me empty. I was betrayed by friends with masks cemented by time, by systems that protect power and crush silence, by moments that asked me to become a statue of stone. But I didn't, I kept walking with an open heart. I bled, cried in the silence of the night, asked the sky about everything, but never this: being real is not a weakness, being good is not madness. It's a strength few know, but I carry it. I've lost people, the warm comfort of whispers, I've lost chances, but kept my light alive. And you know what? That's something magical, maybe not in titles, but in the silent mirror of the morning, I know I'm whole. And that's enough, I'm still here, still walking, still warm in a cold world, honest in a universe of lies. I'm still me, and I regret nothing...