“Children of war have no need for calendars. Their time is measured in losses”

He was not born for war. But his cradle was rocked by sirens, his lullabies were explosions, his games turned into escape.

Adults argued over borders, while he learned to recognize footsteps: friend or foe.

The trace of war is not only craters in the ground. It is the silence where laughter should be. It is the gaze of a child who has seen too much.

And this trace will follow him for life.

Year: August, 2025 Digital Art drawn in Procreate Size: 7000*7000 pixels