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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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Gongah

In the quiet realm of patience, Gongah stood,
A man of restless heart in a tranquil wood.
With eager eyes fixed on the hands of time,
He learned the truth in rhythm and rhyme.

Through the whispers of leaves, a lesson was heard,
Sometimes, waiting is a song, not a word.
In the hush of anticipation, he found his art,
A melody composed in the depths of his heart.

Gongah realized, like seasons in repose,
Life unfolds in the stillness it bestows.
In the tapestry of moments, patience is spun,
A symphony of waiting, a dance yet undone.

The world moved around him, a cosmic ballet,
Yet Gongah discovered peace in the delay.
For in the pause between dusk and dawn,
A serenity found, a new perspective drawn.

So, he embraced the cadence of the quiet,
As time unveiled its secrets, like a soft riot.
In the realm of patience, Gongah learned to see,
Sometimes, waiting is where one truly is free.

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