It’s strange how routine invades,

Makes even the most bitter event

feel somehow okay again.

Changes things,

Smoothing them

into the way

they’ve always been again.

I am a blade,

Honed by hands wiser

In the forges of my destiny

Each blow that lands

Meant to strengthen

Until finally,

I am dipped in the oil

Where I could crack

or harden

Is that the moment

when you wonder if you can go on?

The moment

where the universe pauses

Waiting

For will-they

or won’t-they?

But,

In the hands of the master

I emerge,

Intact

Brilliant

in the light of the fire

Able to take on the world

Stronger

Than ever before