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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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Kithei


Kithei, a name that speaks of fire, eyes that hold a knowing glint,

Scoffs at whispers, at empty praise, for talk is but the wind's faint hint.

"People say a lot," her voice rings true, a melody both bold and stark,

"But words are leaves, and deeds are roots, a barren promise leaves its mark."


She's seen grand plans on tongues unfurl, then fade like smoke beneath the sun,

Empty promises, a fleeting dream, battles fought and never won.

For Kithei knows, the world's a stage, where actions paint a truer scene,

Kindness given, burdens shared, the whispers turn to what they've never been.


So let them chatter, let them spout, their words like pebbles on the shore,

Kithei will carve her own sure path, where actions speak and speak some more.

For talk is cheap, a passing breeze, a promise whispered on the air,

But deeds, they build, they mend, they hold, a testament, a weight to bear. 

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