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ArtistThe sky is a bruise, a heavy wound, Spilling shadows over a barren land, Where the earth cracks beneath the weight of silence. A river of ink winds through the desolation, Its surface reflecting only the void, Each ripple a reminder of forgotten echoes. Trees stand as twisted monuments, Their branches reach in futile prayer, To a sun that has long since turned its gaze. Beneath the ground, roots twist in agony, Grasping for something lost to time, As the world surrenders to the quiet end.
A somber painting of a desolate landscape emerges through vivid imagery: a bruised sky, cracked earth, an inky river reflecting emptiness, and twisted trees yearning for a forgotten sun. The artwork captures a world in silent surrender to an inevitable end.
