The joy of being sad. A sorrowful realisation of everything being right, though not in the sense of man. As it should be, is as it is. A heart seats itself in the deep recess of understanding. Acceptance is not surrender. Sacrifice lays the table for the feast. Do not mourn the pensive few. It is wisdom in an age fleeting whims. It is a patience and longsuffering that penetrates the ire of the hasty.