A monumental stone figure kneels in silent abandonment, its face enveloped in an evanescent cloud that dissolves into the air, while thin rivulets of rain descend from the sky of its spirit. This ethereal image seems suspended between dream and reality, like a landscape of the soul trapped in a secret greenhouse. The contrast between the solid weight of the sculpture and the delicacy of the vapor that replaces its face evokes the duality of the human condition: strength and fragility, immutability and the relentless flow of emotions. Around it, trees and water bend gracefully, silent witnesses to the pain that flows invisibly to the eyes, yet is as relentless as the rain. It is the cry of the soul, a subdued lament that dissolves without making a sound, a call to the melancholic beauty of inner isolation.