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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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Wassuna

Wassuna, with a heart of gentle rain,
Knew magic lived in whispered words, in pain.
She'd mend a tear in fabric, worn and thin,
With patient touch, a needle's guiding win.

One day, a glass, it slipped and fell so fast,
A spiderweb of cracks, a shattered past.
Wassuna knelt, a tear escaped her eye,
"Please, glass," she breathed, "don't shatter, don't you die."

She closed her eyes, a whispered, mending plea,
But when she looked, the cracks stared back, you see.
The broken thing, it stayed in shards that lay,
No magic spell could take the pain away.

Wassuna sighed, a lesson learned that day,
Some broken things, they don't just mend that way.
With careful hand, each shard she picked so slow,
A patient heart, a will that wouldn't go.

With glue and care, the pieces joined as one,
A web of silver where the breaks had begun.
The glass, reborn, held light in fractured grace,
A mended heart, a wisdom in its place.

Wassuna smiled, a tear upon her cheek,
Some things are broken, but can still be sleek.
With love and work, the cracks may never hide,
But beauty blooms where once the world had died. 

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