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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.

Nanjala

Nanjala's voice, a gentle chime,
Rings through the air, transcending time.
"Bitterness and disease," she'll say,
"Walk hand in hand, each paving the way."

Her eyes hold wisdom, soft and deep,
A knowing smile her secrets keep.
"Let go," she urges, kind and true,
"Release the grudge, it festers in you."

"No reason's strong for bitterness' hold,
It only weakens, leaving you cold.
Disease thrives where shadows reside,
But forgiveness lets sunshine inside."

Nanjala's words, a balm so sweet,
A call to peace, a chance to complete.
For letting go, a burden released,
Brings health and hope, a joyful feast. 

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