The great return

Crystal lear advancement of an irate beauty, the haze begins to clear in the wash of setting sunlight. Like a storm that's gone so long, the weeping finally cases, and with a cry less like thunder than ever before we move on. It's an epiphany, red and bright and out of place in the encroaching night, but it stands there, reckoning nonetheless. There is spring in the step once more, a sense of purpose once thought lost amongst the confusion. And despite an interruption, the clarity remains, understanding that all things move towards their opposite, and we now come back to love.