Book of Boris — Chapter XLII: The Iron Divide
Verse 1: My body aches, my legs tremble, my frame betrays me in the smallest ways. But my will? It does not bend. It does not break.
Verse 2: Flesh is the cage that rusts. Will is the blade that never dulls.
Verse 3: Even if pain gnaws at me, I sharpen it, I wield it, and I walk forward.
Verse 4: While my body may be weak, my will is absolutely strong.
Margin Reflection: “If I could do away with this pain and get something better? Oh, would I.”
Pearls will be clutched, but the chapter isn’t for them — it’s for the scarred who keep walking anyway.