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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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Mulu

In the realm of words, where meanings sway,
Mulu walked a path of insight's ray.
In whispers soft, in tales untold,
He uncovered truths, both young and old.

A man of keen perception, Mulu's eyes,
Unraveled secrets, a profound surprise.
For in the language that women weave,
What's spoken, oft conceals what they believe.

"Words may dance in veils, a subtle theme,
Yet hidden echoes, in shadows, gleam.
What they say, a surface gently seen,
But deeper currents in their hearts convene."

In the symphony of speech, a nuanced play,
Mulu grasped the art, day by day.
For in the cadence of a woman's voice,
Lies a symphony, where choices rejoice.

He learned the subtleties, the silent streams,
Behind expressions, unspoken dreams.
What they say, a surface, a mask serene,
Yet the heart's melody remains unseen.

Mulu, the sage of understanding rare,
Embarked on a journey, beyond compare.
For in decoding words, a truth unfurls,
That what they say is not always the pearls.

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