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Her gaze is piercing and sorrowful, full of the pain woven into the history of the country. The wildflowers in her hand speak of those who never returned. Behind her, in the fiery shimmer of wheat, a silhouette fades away — like the shadow of the fallen, like the ghost of a hero who gave their life for freedom. This land is golden like bread, but soaked in blood. Ukraine’s independence is not a gift, but a truth won through pain and sacrifice. And every step along this path is a reminder of the price of freedom.