It

How we fight for It. How we yearn to experience It. To be a part of It. How we sacrifice what is dear in our reckless pursuit for It. How its absence, its resulting betrayal, can warp its delicate form. And how vengence, pride, hatred, lust and greed, can banish it from our hearts, minds, and fleeting souls.

And so it is not beyond imagination and mortal fathom that many have fallen in the Quest, unable to be charged with the requisite vigour in rising again and facing It. But in the same vein, so many have continued to soldier the journey and challenge the odds, blessed by the aid and gift of Fate's hand. Some will persevere and will know it, live it, and will with natural ease, be living sacrements and messengers of divine expression to the mass of fallen and broken spirits. While many of the initiated make worthy attempts at communicating this expression, none embody its truest significance better than an age old Corinthian inspired script;

Love is patient, love is kind.
It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.
It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.
Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.
It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

Be tolerant. Be benevolent. Be thankful. Be humble. Be polite. Be patient. Be calm. Be forgiving. Be sincere. And you shall find It no further away than behind your left coat pocket.

Legion, despite your propensity to fight, I also live because you can love. Because I can love. Because I am loved. But by the high heavens, do not be mistaken. Love, in all its fruitful splendour, is also the heaviest and sharpest double-edged bastard sword that hovers with its pointed tip delicately kissing the skin over your hearts...