Who arranged these objects on the table with the ceremonial precision of artifacts laid out for the dead?
The book lies shut—as if something beyond words were imprisoned within its pages. The leather binding has cracked with age, its gilded lettering now resembling a road leading nowhere.
Someone departed, leaving behind this key and a bowl utterly empty. No water, no wine, no tears—only the shadow cast by its rim like a black moon against a white sky.
Leaf-shadows tremble across the tabletop, living their secret life.
Whose relics are these?
Perhaps a priest who no longer believes. The key—from his shuttered church, closed for want of worshippers. The bowl—drained of sacramental wine, now holding nothing but absence.
The sun sinks. Shadows stretch like sinners at dusk. Soon they’ll merge into unbroken darkness, and none of this will matter anymore.
4 Artist Reviews
£830
Loading
Who arranged these objects on the table with the ceremonial precision of artifacts laid out for the dead?
The book lies shut—as if something beyond words were imprisoned within its pages. The leather binding has cracked with age, its gilded lettering now resembling a road leading nowhere.
Someone departed, leaving behind this key and a bowl utterly empty. No water, no wine, no tears—only the shadow cast by its rim like a black moon against a white sky.
Leaf-shadows tremble across the tabletop, living their secret life.
Whose relics are these?
Perhaps a priest who no longer believes. The key—from his shuttered church, closed for want of worshippers. The bowl—drained of sacramental wine, now holding nothing but absence.
The sun sinks. Shadows stretch like sinners at dusk. Soon they’ll merge into unbroken darkness, and none of this will matter anymore.
14 day money back guaranteeLearn more