In the desolate labyrinth of his own existence, Leonard stood at the precipice of oblivion. His life, once a sturdy oak, had splintered into fragments-each shard a jagged memory of love, loss, and betrayal. The echoes of his family's laughter haunted him, a symphony of joy now silenced by tragedy.   "In this vast world, we clutch fragile dreams, build castles from whispers, and dance upon the precipice of existence. But when the tempests come, they sweep away our illusions, leaving us with empty hands and hearts heavy with echoes. And yet, perhaps it is in losing everything that we discover the resilience to begin anew-to paint our own constellations on the canvas of oblivion."                     Credits to: @Adiliraven for the book cover