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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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Basoga

In the quiet of his solitude, Basoga stood,
A man with memories carved in the marrow of his being.

Some days, the pain, an unwelcome guest,
Creeping through the corridors of time,
Its weight heavier than the day it was bestowed.

Echoes of yesteryears, etched in the lines on his face,
A tale told not in words but in the shadows of his gaze.

He once thought healing would be the salve,
Yet, some wounds fester with the passage of days.

As sunlight danced on the river's gentle flow,
Basoga realized, in moments quiet and slow,
The ache within, more profound than the initial blow.

The past, a relentless phantom, haunting the now,
A ghostly companion, an unbroken vow.

Yet, in the depth of despair, a flicker of strength,
For even in darkness, there lies a resilience at length.

Basoga embraced the truth with a sigh,
Some days, the pain, a relentless sky.

But within him, a spirit resilient and wise,
Finding solace in the tears he'd rise.

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