But time… does something that cannot be rushed.
In the stillness after destruction, beneath the surface where no one is watching –
transformation begins.
Pressure builds. Darkness holds. And slowly, what was once molten and violent begins to harden into form.
Obsidian. Crystal. Gemstone.
Not because the fire was kind. Not because the destruction was needed.
But because what remained was not abandoned.
Pain does not become beautiful on its own.
It becomes something else only when it is carried, processed, and shaped into something that can endure.
with grace, Sama Rael
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