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๐๐ก๐ ๐๐ฐ๐จ๐ซ๐๐ฌ๐ฆ๐ข๐ญ๐ก
From the Makerโs furnace is forged each life,
When are portions promised of joy and strife,
And these both, in measure, for life one pays,
And the price is fate, and it cuts both ways.
And how blows are borne, will in each reveal,
Whether flawed with weakness, or strong like steel.
Knows the smith, when forging a two-edged sword,
How it holds each edge, is its temper scored.
โ D.N. OโBrien