Dark,
gray,
lonely.
Baren with lost souls wandering the streets,
empty hearts,
empty stomachs,
empty eyes.

Then,
it came.

It dropped from the sky
the way tears fall from my cheek.
Little bundles of cold,
freezing the burning
hurt,
drenching the scars
with a blanket of a new day
a new thought.

They rise from the dead,
back,
alive,
and ready to roll.
Smiles leap across like rainbows on skies,
eyes lit the way you build a bonfire with frosty trembling hands,
movements jerky with fervor.

They're back.