In a small town wrapped in fog and whispers, there lived a young man named Leo. He was an artist by heart, pouring his soul onto canvases that were often painted in shades of melancholy. As he stood before his easel, he often counted his demons—those insidious doubts that shadowed him daily—the ones that told him he wasn't good enough, that his art would never be seen, and that he was destined to be forgotten.

Each morning felt like a battle; a journey of summoning the good spirits that would cling to his shoulders, pushing back against the darkness that crept in. When he looked around, it seemed as if the world had conspired to turn its back on him, every face a reminder of his failures. He fought hard to silence the whispers of neglect and despair.

One rainy day, as the droplets tapped against the window, Leo felt an overwhelming wave of defeat crash over him, threatening to pull him under. The vibrant colors of his paintings faded to gray, and he sank deep into a quiet spiral of contemplation, convinced that all was indeed lost. But something within him flickered—a small, defiant voice that whispered hope amidst the chaos.

With the sun eventually breaking through the clouds, Leo picked up his brush once more. He poured his struggles onto the canvas, transforming them into vivid depictions of battles fought and won. He painted the demons he counted each day, giving them a face, a story, and in doing so, he reclaimed his power over them. It was not a shameful neglect that he felt; rather, it was a reminder that even in the depths of despair, there was not only struggle but also resilience.

As the gallery prepared for its opening night, he filled the room with his art—paintings that spoke of both darkness and light. People came, lingering in front of his work, their faces reflecting emotions he had once thought were unique to him. In that moment, they connected, sharing stories of their own battles with neglect and loss.

Standing amidst them, Leo finally understood: he was never truly alone. Each person gathered there had their own demons they counted, yet they all were united in their shared hope for better days. When the applause thundered through the gallery, Leo felt the weight lift. He realized that everything wasn’t lost; it was just hiding beneath the surface, ready to be summoned once more.

Drawing strength from this realization, he began to sing out, the words enveloping him like a warm embrace—reminding everyone, including himself, that hope survives even in the darkest of times. With a chorus of voices joining him, they sang that everything’s not lost, weaving the story of survival and resilience—an anthem for all who felt neglected, forgotten, or afraid. And in that moment, Leo knew that he, too, would keep counting his demons, always hoping everything would be alright.