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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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Okello

Okello, eyes like sunbaked clay,
Gazed at the world in his own quiet way.
A man of strength, a stoic hide,
Emotions locked away, deep inside.

But whispers turned to a growing hum,
A truth untold, a feeling numb.
It gnawed at him, a constant ache,
A burden carried, for goodness sake.

Then came a moment, a shift in the breeze,
A dawning courage to set his spirit at ease.
He knew the paradox, the seeming defeat,
That vulnerability can sometimes be sweet.

To show his scars, the cracks in his might,
Was not surrender, but a path bathed in light.
For in that exposure, a strength newly found,
A connection shared, on empathy's ground.

So Okello, with a tremor in his voice,
Shared his weakness, a liberating choice.
The world listened, with surprise and respect,
For true power lies in hearts that connect.

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