Melancholic Happiness.

When the stars collide

and the space between is far from horizons

we all have our doubts above all.

Melancholy in our roots

Yet happiness still lingers

"Happiness, you say?"

The trees whisper, swaying in the wind.

"Yes, happiness." the birds fly to the horizon

As if the birds wanted to.

Had a will to do so.

What if there is no melancholy?

No happiness?

No anger?

The world would be empty inside.

Without trees, or birds that sing until...

sing until their tiny lungs give out..

We would not have melancholy.

Nor anger.

Nor happiness.