Not Every Dream Was Meant to Survive

Not a single dream

ever reached its full horizon.

And yet—

I did not lose my mind after that.

The accidents of life

continue like endless recommendations,

as if misfortune keeps filing requests

in my name.

Still, among all these collisions,

there is one strange mercy:

The tragedy that happened today

did not return tomorrow.

Pain arrived—

but it did not settle permanently.

Dreams shattered—

but I remained standing.

Madness hovered close—

but never claimed me.

Perhaps this is survival:

to endure unfinished stories,

to breathe beneath falling skies,

to witness disaster

without becoming it.

Not every dream survives.

Not every wound repeats itself.

And somehow—

I am still here.