This piece is a visual map of the human condition. It’s the violent, chaotic song of our own minds—the "Ballad of Samsara"—played out against the clear, steady note of potential enlightenment. The Dharmapala above isn't presiding over the violence; it's the fierce protector of the music, the guardian of the path. The title "The Ballad" is the bridge between the two worlds. A ballad is a classic Western form—the ballad of the outlaw, a story of violence, tragedy, and consequence set to music. In this piece, the pulp figures are living out that tragic story. The verses of this ballad are scenes of pure samsaric struggle: a sheriff is hogtied, law is overthrown, and the gunman's rage is mirrored, repeating endlessly. The tormented faces in the fire at the bottom are the ballad's inevitable conclusion, the karmic price for living inside that violent song. But at the heart of the inferno sits the Buddha, completely serene, playing his instrument. He is the song's counterpoint. He's not a passive observer in the chaos; his music is the dharma itself—the teaching of the way out of the fire.