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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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Barsheba Kisauni

In Barsheba Kisauni, where echoes roam,
There lived a man named Kennedy, in his own home.
He faced the mirror, whispered his truth, bold and bright,
"It's not impossible until we fail, in the day or the night."

Through winding paths, his dreams did sail,
Chasing visions, with an unwavering trail.
With every step, his spirit did prevail,
In his heart, he carried the weight of the tale.

In Barsheba Kisauni, where hope found its wings,
Kennedy embraced challenges, life's stings.
For every stumble, he rose with grace,
Learning from each fall, with a determined pace.

"If we fail," he murmured, gazing within,
"We fail searching for greatness, beneath our skin."
With resilience as his ally, he faced the unknown,
In the quiet of his village, his spirit shone.

So in the mirror, he saw his journey's call,
The trials endured, the rise, and the fall.
In Barsheba Kisauni, his story unfurled,
Kennedy's spirit, an anthem in the world.

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