There are nights when the world feels too loud so we sit in silence, hoping it drowns the chaos inside. This artwork captures one of those nights. A man sits alone by the window, smoking not out of addiction, but out of need. A need to breathe slower. To exist without speaking. To feel without explaining. Behind him, the blood moon looms unblinking, eternal mirroring the weight he carries. Every puff he takes isn't just smoke… it's a memory, it's regret, it's a quiet plea for peace. His posture, his stillness, the glow of red it’s not just an art . It’s a mirror. For all of us who’ve ever sat in the dark just to feel something real.