Lucian Catalin Manda

In a forgotten city of gold, hidden beneath layers of time and silence, there once stood a grand hall where every surface was gilded in shimmering metal. The walls, the floors, even the ceilings were lined with golden tiles, each one etched with the stories and symbols of a once-thriving civilization. The city was known as Aurum, a place where the sun never set, and the air was always warm with light.

This painting, abstract yet hauntingly detailed, is said to be a fragment of the last surviving wall of Aurum. Over centuries, the gold tiles have chipped and faded, revealing the darkness underneath — the silence of abandonment, the creeping rot of time. What was once perfect symmetry has now cracked into beautiful chaos. The black voids in the image are not just absences; they are echoes of voices, laughter, footsteps — remnants of a people who lived in brilliance and vanished without a trace.