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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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Shitakha

In the stillness of dusk, Shitakha did find,
A truth woven deep in the fabric of mind.
A man's weary smile, a facade to conceal,
The shadows of sorrow he longed to reveal.

Beneath the bright mask, the pain did reside,
In the echoes of laughter, his heart would confide.
With each gentle gaze, the burden it bore,
The world unaware of the turmoil at its core.

A woman's soft tears, a delicate embrace,
Held secrets untold, veiled in remorseful grace.
Her sobs whispered tales of errors untamed,
The frailty of perfection, forever unnamed.

Through the veil of her weeping, a tale did unfold,
Of trials unspoken, mistakes left untold.
In the shelter of tears, she sought to erase,
The scars of her choices, the errors misplaced.

Shitakha, the observer, bore witness in awe,
To the masks that we wear, the truth that we draw.
In smiles and in tears, the human soul weaves,
A tapestry of emotions, in shadows and leaves.

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