Once a king, now a ruin—watched by a wanderer who knows his sandstorm is coming.
A mysterious traveler confronts the shattered remains of a pharaonic statue, half-buried in sand. The pose echoes Shelley’s poem, a meditation on hubris and impermanence.
The scene becomes a meeting of past and present: the eternal decay of once-great empires and the observer's quiet acknowledgment of his fading legacy. It's not just about rulers and ruins—it's about all of us who once stood tall and now stand still.