To lose a home is not just to lose walls; it is to watch the ground dissolve beneath your feet until running is the only rhythm your heart remembers. War turns our cities into smoke, our histories into whispers, and our faces into silent ghosts pressed against cold fences. We reach toward an empty sky searching for something that belonged to us—a door, a voice, a tomorrow that never arrived. All that remains is the ache of what was taken, and the stubborn breath of those left to wander the ruin. 1/1 - 2026