Wrath was anger that had grown into a consuming desire to punish or destroy.
Anger could answer an insult, a betrayal, an injustice. It could demand that something wrong be corrected, then subside when that happened.
Wrath could continue long after correction ceased to matter.
It wanted the offender to suffer.
Sometimes it wanted suffering even when nothing could be repaired by it.
There was strength in such fury. It could drag someone through pain, silent hesitation, and sustain resistance when hope had failed.
But those advantages were few compared to what it could ruin.
One's judgement narrowed. Restraint became intolerable. An enemy's surrender might no longer be enough, and an innocent person standing nearby could become an acceptable loss.
Wrath could destroy the very thing its owner had first wanted to protect.
Its claim to righteousness could survive long after its actions had become unjust.
It could scream, or wait in silence. Excess was not measured by volume.
