The day grows darker,
With clouds hanging low and ominous.
Atmosphere charged into an expectant frenzy
Terrified by explosions overhead,
Illuminated by destructive sparks
And drenched by ferocious rainfall
That soaks and seeps and freezes
Even amidst the heat.
Hailstone hits like thousands of glass shards,
And as the thunder rumbles on
The clouds break.
The sunshine forces through,
Evaporating fallen rain into mist.
Wind diminishes.
The air, refreshed.
The earth, rejuvenated.
The fire and water moved on. For now.
The storm, now in the distance, rages onwards.
The calm returns
Bright and fresh like a new Spring morning.
This storm, like any other, weathered.
And time goes on, regardless.
The Mansionic Perspective 
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