Flint

Flint; my enemy, my side's very own thorn, you are dark and quite rough, and upon me you've worn; unappealing in sight and abrasive to touch, you're relentless and fierce, letting nothing obstruct. Through the hardest of blows and the press from your strike, I have tempered to steel though you press on with fight, and I've found that the flint I believed was my end, has transformed and become quite a meaningful friend. For steel can be pummeled by flint day and night, but the striking will cause a small brilliance of light. A spark that is forged by the clash of your might, is the fuel of a spark for a flame to ignite.