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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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Makau

Makau, with eyes that have seen too much sun,
Stares at a hand, weathered and worn, but strong.
Aching reminders of battles outrun,
Fights where the victor hums a sorrowful song.

Time, like a savanna wind, whispers its claim,
Shifting the sands of memory's vast plain.
Scars, etched in flesh, forever the same,
But the rawness of feeling, a memory half-feigned.

A name, once a tempest that shook his frail soul,
Now echoes like whispers, a story untold.
The sting of betrayal, a tale to grow old,
Fades like the campfire's embers, turned cold.

Makau sighs, a dry rasp in the twilight's embrace,
The wound may not throb, but it leaves its dark trace.
Time, he concedes, with a wisdom hard-won,
Doesn't heal, but buries what can't be outrun.

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