I will hone a blade-sharp anger, and I will imagine that it fights rather than obliterates.
My anger, however righteous, will not be the sea that sweeps away indiscriminately. It will not be fire that burns atoms rather than people, bodies rather than beings. This is obliteration; and it is the impulse of floods, hurricanes, storms, the gods of venerable texts. It is not my task.
If I have the wrath of fires and storms, they will not lay houses into ashes or rubble. I will hold a coal in one pocket and a droplet in the other. If I cry, my tears will not wither the crops or corrode the ground. I will bottle a single tear, and dare the wicked to break the glass.
My anger will not be a natural disaster, an obliterator. To obliterate is to destroy bodies as easily as walls, rending them atom by atom. The fire and storm know only the physical properties of limbs and stone. The fire did not fight the ashes, and the storm did not fight the rubble.
My task is to fight, not to obliterate. To fight is to take grievance with the living. I must not only realize that the target of my anger is alive, but use the facts of their way of being as my weapon. And if doing so would be unjust or nonsensical, as fighting a wall, then I must quell my anger, for it is not righteous.
But perhaps the temptation to obliterate is too great-- For this reason, I will hone power that is not omnipotent. I will not take dominion over others; I will not shout so the world can hear my muttering. I will not have breathless disciples who must petition my lungs for life.
And perhaps blade-sharp anger will become double-edged-- For this reason, I will cultivate an anger that does not take fuel indiscriminately. I will not reserve it only for others; I will not cultivate wrath that needs no wielder. I will not be satisfied with weapons that kill indiscriminately, even if I promise to only attack the wicked.
And perhaps you will be conscripted into wielding anger irresponsibly-- For this reason, I will not fight alongside those with the will to obliterate. I will not laugh when the wicked are insulted, if the same weapon could be wielded against one I have no quarrel with. I will not draw purpose from one who treats me as a disciple only to be taught, since such a teacher is committing an irresponsible act.
If the wicked breathe fire, I will only raise a blade forged from that heat.
If the wicked loose thunderstorms, I will only build war-machines that harness that lightning.
And in this way, I can be free, for I know my rightous anger will not obliterate my allies, and I am free to fight for myself and my community.