Go — Be sad!

You can dip your soul into the ink of misery, Find comfort in the folds of melancholy. History remembers the names of those Who loved their sadness, Who held it close, lingered too long, And called it their own. Go ahead—be sad. I will not stop you. But melancholy is an Oliver Twist; It always asks for more. Soon, it will reach for your spark, That fragile ember buried deep, The last light after everything else fades. Hold it. Guard it. Do not let the shadows steal it, No matter how they whisper. One day, that spark will be enough. It will grow, burning quietly, A flame to guide you back, To mend the cracks, To make you whole again.