I am the beginning of sorrow, and the end of sickness. You cannot express happiness without me, yet I am in the midst of crosses. I am always in risk, yet never in danger. You may find me in the sun, but I am never out of darkness. What am I?
Some will use me, while others will not, some have remembered, while others have forgot. For profit or gain, I'm used expertly, I can't be picked off the ground or tossed into the sea. Only gained from patience and time, can you unravel my rhyme? What am I?