Sorrow's Child

The first cracks appear. Unfettered wonder crumbles. What once seemed effortless and free is shaped, moulded. The world grates, others reflect, judge. Rules, expectations—a mental corset slowly tightening. Faces disappear behind masks, safe yet suffocating. The carousel turns, but the magic is gone. Distant gazes drift across weathered concrete. Dolls, abandoned, lifeless—like ghosts from a nightmare. The awakening begins—the dream of childhood fades, the loss of innocence inevitable. These images do not comfort. They confront.