Escuro, Sempre

A distant presence drips from the blood-red sky, casting an eerie pall over a world where the ground has long forgotten its pulse. The land, barren and cracked, bears the mark of an unforgiving force with its surface charred and lifeless, as dead branches stretch toward a void that holds no answers. The atmosphere is thick with the weight of an impending end, where time itself seems to slow, and the finality of existence is written in shades of red. This is not a landscape of tragedy, but of inevitable truth. The cosmic dance continues, indifferent to the decay beneath, where the unyielding nature of the universe reveals itself not in the spectacular, but in the quiet certainty of what has been left behind.

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