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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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Barren Fields

A bitter fruit from actions sown,
Consequence's shadow, dark and lone.
No golden lining, no silver gleam,
Just echoes of regret, a mournful dream.

A path once bright, now shadowed deep,
Where sorrow's rivers endlessly weep.
No solace found in hindsight's art,
Just wounds that fester, tear apart.

A heavy burden, hard to bear,
The weight of choices, a despairing snare.
No sweet redemption, no promised land,
Just barren fields where hope once planned. 

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