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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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Kiptoo

In the shadows, he quietly weaves his tale,
Kiptoo, the artisan of silence, never to unveil.
His dreams, they soar, his spirit untamed,
Yet veiled from the spotlight, his ambitions unnamed.

Through ventures unspoken, he charts his course,
Crafting empires in silence, with resolute force.
In the symphony of progress, his orchestration unseen,
A maestro of innovation, yet shrouded, serene.

Unseen, unheard, his steps mark the ground,
In whispers of triumph, his legacy bound.
For in the realm of business, he thrives in the unknown,
A phantom of success, a legend overthrown.

In boardrooms and corridors, his presence evades,
Yet empires rise in silence, under his subtle shades.
To the world, an enigma, a name without echo,
Kiptoo, the entrepreneur, in secrecy, a maestro.

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