There is a sadness that is born from deep knowledge

There is a sadness that is born from deep knowledge, like a shadow slipping through the cracks of the soul, a sadness that whispers the world is not a fairy tale, but a mosaic of fleeting moments, where dreams unravel like grains of sand between weary fingers. It is the melancholy of one who understands life is not a triumphant march, but a succession of ephemeral moments, like the silent murmur of leaves in the wind, and love, a fragile story, an illusion that dissolves in the morning light, leaving behind only silence and the echo of a passing memory. Happiness, that rare spark, a glimmer piercing the darkness for a moment, but extinguishing quickly, leaving behind an unfulfilled desire, an unfinished dream, and in this understanding, a deep loneliness grows, an ocean of silence, a rupture from the world, from others, from your hidden and lost self. This knowledge transforms us into floating islands, in a universe of silence, where only thoughts remain as companions, and in this quiet, a longing is born, a thirst to find something that cannot be found, a call to the edge of the horizon, where shadows become dreams and dreams become shadows.