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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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Kiteme

In the realm where dreams take flight,
There lived a man named Kiteme, bold and bright.
He chased perfection with unwavering might,
Yet found solace in a truth, pure and light.

Through winds of doubt and skies unclear,
Kiteme soared, overcoming every fear.
In the pursuit of flawlessness, he'd persevere,
Until a revelation whispered in his ear.

Perfection, he learned, is a fleeting guise,
A mirage that fades as reality defies.
In the heart of purpose, true beauty lies,
And in that realization, Kiteme's spirit flies.

For every endeavor, every imperfect try,
Is a step closer to the limitless sky.
In the dance with purpose, he found reply,
A symphony of flaws composing his high.

No longer bound by the chains of perfection,
Kiteme embraced life's imperfect reflection.
His kite of purpose soared in every direction,
A testament to the beauty of imperfection.

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