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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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Muchai

In the realm of Madrid's great football scene,
There lived a man named Muchai, a devoted fan, keen.
With fervor in his heart, he'd often proclaim,
"Losers never win!"—his unwavering refrain.

In white and blue, he found his team's resolute might,
In victories and losses, he clung to his fight.
Through the highs and lows, his spirit remained,
A steadfast belief in the glory unrestrained.

Though defeats would come, he'd never concede,
To Muchai, triumph was more than a need.
In the echoes of Bernabéu, his voice would ring,
"Losers never win!"—his anthem would sing.

For every missed goal, and every lost chance,
He'd rise with the dawn, still ready to dance.
Through the trials and tests, his faith didn't dim,
"Losers never win!"—his undying hymn.

In the annals of fandom, his legacy soars,
A testament to dedication, down to the core.
For Muchai and Real Madrid, the bond was clear,
"Losers never win!"—a mantra to hold dear.

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