Prompt:
In a barren, almost desolate room, an Asian boy sits quietly on the floor. The walls are made of raw, unpainted bricks—cold, rough, and unwelcoming. The space is empty, devoid of furniture, color, or warmth. He sits with his knees slightly drawn in, shoulders slumped, his posture heavy with emotional weight. His gaze is distant, not blank but burdened—carrying the quiet ache of deep sadness, perhaps even despair. His eyes seem tired, as if they’ve witnessed more than a child ever should.
Beside him, a hole pierces the brick wall—shaped precisely like his head. It’s not a window, but a rupture in reality, as if his inner turmoil has carved itself into the world around him. Through this opening, one sees a bleak, sorrowful landscape: foggy, gray, lifeless. The trees are bare, the sky heavy, the ground stripped of vitality.
This scene speaks of isolation, of a child lost within himself. The hole in the wall is more than a physical absence—it’s a symbol of emotional emptiness, a silent scream etched into stone. The landscape beyond is not just a view, but a reflection of his inner world: abandoned, mournful, still.
Artist
