Imagine an eye—a universal witness—looking out. It sees cities burning, buildings crumbling, and helicopters slicing through smoke. This eye holds our collective grief, silently pleading for peace. In this painting, I pour my anger, my grief. The eye sees all—the lost homes, the fractured families, the scars etched into the earth. It bears witness to the cries that echo across borders, the tears that water the roots of despair. Children, fragile as petals, bear the weight of wars they did not choose. Their laughter silenced, their dreams shattered against the jagged edges of reality. And my heart, too, fractures with each news report, each image of destruction. And as I paint, I wonder: Can art heal? Can colors mend what humanity has torn asunder? Perhaps not. But still, I wield my brush, hoping that this eye—this silent witness—will ignite a spark of empathy. That somewhere, someone will pause, look closer, and feel the ache that binds us all. May this painting be a plea for peace, a testament to resilience. May it remind us that even amidst chaos, the eye sees, the heart feels, and art, fragile and fierce, persists.