I have found things to be true: weakness is the monster in the dark.
The fact that it breeds strength is pure farce. However, it does breed doubt and fear and sadness all beyond recount.
Weakness has been known to be the adulterer of love, of beauty, and of bravery.
It is true that perhaps to some it is a muse—a slowly burning  fuse to something brighter, bolder, better.
To others, it is the bearer of perpetual gloom—their fuse gone cold too soon.