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Heart of Stone

He built his dreams with fire and steel,   Through sweat and pain, through grit and will.   His path was carved with silent nights,   A war he waged beyond the sights.   But love, so sweet, so soft, so near,   Whispered dreams into his ear.   A choice was placed upon his chest—   His passion’s flame, or love’s request.   He turned away from burning light,   Held her close, embraced the night.   Yet soon he found, to his dismay,   Both love and purpose slipped away.   For goals demand a heart of stone,   And love still longs to call its own.   To chase one means to lose the fight,   To hold both tight is rarest might.   So walk the road with eyes aware,   Choose with wisdom, choose with care.   For once you drop what makes you whole,   You lose the fire—and lose your soul.
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Imperfect Design

In the silence of Okwani's days,  
Memories whisper, tangled in a haze.  
His wife's deceit, a ghostly tether,  
Haunts each step, no respite, no feather.

A heart once brimming, now echoes hollow,  
Torn by betrayal, a relentless sorrow.  
The past, an anchor, refuses to relent,  
Its weight, a burden, never to augment.

In quiet moments, he's left to reflect,  
On love's shattered fragments, dreams unchecked.  
His gaze fixed backward, in pained refrain,  
He grapples with letting go, releasing the chain.

Yet within, a flicker, a flame's faint glow,  
A whisper of strength, a will to grow.  
Okwani, a soul, worn but not broken,  
Seeks solace in truths yet unspoken.  

For time's gentle touch, a balm to soothe,  
May heal the wounds, those memories imbue.  
As dawn awakens, hope's subtle gleam,  
Guides Okwani's heart to mend, to redeem.

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