The therrible

Imagine waking up. The sun is the same. But everything else is gone.

The street where your kids played. Gone. The kitchen where you drank coffee. Gone. The walls that held your memories. Gone. All that is left... is rubble.

Diam7 created this piece to hold that silence. To honor the homes that were full of laughter yesterday and are full of stones today.

This is not about politics. This is about people.

The ink is the dust. The empty spaces are the absences. The few lines of color are the hope that one day, someone will build again.

_Hang this as a reminder. That peace is fragile. That home is not a place. Home is what we carry inside. And that we must never get used to seeing rubble._