Ardor

Some anger burns out fast. The rest? It festers. You either spit it out and let it die, or you keep it bottled up until it mutates into something you can’t control. Ardor comes from a line by William Blake that says it plain: “I was angry with my friend: I told my wrath, my wrath did end. I was angry with my foe: I told it not, my wrath did grow.” — A Poison Tree. Silence can feed rage better than fire ever could. And once it’s fed, it doesn’t just go away.

Handcrafted Sterling Silver Ring with Onyx Stone.