Prompt:
A solitary figure, shrouded in a cloak of midnight black, standing at the edge of a vast, desolate cliff. The cloak, tattered and torn, seems to have taken on a life of its own, extending far beyond the figure's body and merging with the shadowy landscape. The figure's shoulders are bent under an unbearable weight, as if carrying the world's sorrow on their back. Their face, obscured by the hood, is angled towards the sky, revealing a pair of glowing, tear-filled eyes that pierce through the darkness like stars in a moonless night. The eyes are the only source of light in this somber scene, casting a soft, ethereal glow upon the heavy chains that weigh them down. Each link of the chains is forged from moments of loss, pain, and despair, stretching back into the abyss that lies behind them. The abyss is a sea of black ink, swirling with a tumultuous intensity, threatening to consume the figure at any moment. The cliff's edge is a precarious balance of jagged stones and desiccated earth, hinting at the erosion of hope and stability in the face of grief. The sky above is a canvas of muted grays and blues, with a single, fading streak of light that could be the last remnant of a lost sunset or a distant promise of dawn. The horizon is a blur, suggesting an undefined future filled with both the vastness of sorrow and the possibility of healing. The wind whispers mournfully through the figure's cloak, carrying with it the echoes of countless unspoken goodbyes and unshed tears. The overall scene is one of profound isolation and sorrow, yet the posture of the figure, though burdened, speaks of an unyielding resilience to bear the weight of their grief, standing as a silent sentinel against the all-consuming darkness.