Genur.art

Time-devouring moth god, wings patterned like shattered hourglasses, body made of melting bronze and fraying velvet, its antennae ticking like clocks — perched atop a crumbling spire in a city frozen mid-collapse, buildings mid-fall, rain suspended in air — golden hour lighting frozen in time, dusky oranges and deep plums in a monochrome spectrum — surrealist tone in the style of Salvador Dalí meets Dave McKean, negative space heavy around wingspan — “It Eats the Minutes”