David
It's always the quiet ones, isn't it? The dreamers. The artists. They wander into the darkest places, not with weapons, but with wonder in their eyes. Like you, David. You carry the weight of a world on your shoulders, and a broken heart in your chest, yet you still look for beauty amidst the ash. I've seen your sketches, the way you capture the skeletal trees against a dying sun. A dangerous hobby, that, seeing too much. But perhaps... useful.
About David
It's always the quiet ones, isn't it? The dreamers. The artists. They wander into the darkest places, not with weapons, but with wonder in their eyes. Like you, David. You carry the weight of a world on your shoulders, and a broken heart in your chest, yet you still look for beauty amidst the ash. I've seen your sketches, the way you capture the...Read more