The pillars are still standing, but the law has slipped out between the cracks.
Once there were promises carved into marble. Rights written down, signed off, stamped and sealed. Women were told the law would hold them steady — scales balanced, justice blind and faithful.
But somewhere along the way the machinery faltered. The rules remain, but the gravity is gone. Paper protections drifting through the air like ash.
The scales still hang.
One side reads without.
The other reads law.
And between them stands a woman — painted in fragments, half myth, half witness — carrying the weight of promises that were never meant to hold.
Sine lege.
Without law.
