Long ago, I was told by a far wiser man than I that our will hones wrath into a mighty weapon. But, he told me, it is sorrow that forges our will. I have meditated on these words often; they have given me strength when I was weak and hope when my faith grew ragged. I believe these words to be true. They reveal much.
A blade, too finely honed, loses strength. Though sharp, it cannot cut without being broken. A forge, if crafted and refined endlessly, never produces. A life cannot be lived completely in sorrow, nor can wrath be exchanged for infinite will. Knowing this, I must attempt to put aside my suffering. Though it hurts, I can no longer invest so much time in the wound I carry. It is time to stop forging my will and start honing my wrath.
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