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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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Cycle

The market climbs, a vibrant vine,
Numbers bloom, a verdant sign.
Investors preen, with pockets lined,
But whispers rise, a chilling kind.

For just as day gives way to night,
So too must profits take their flight.
The crash descends, a sudden blight,
Red arrows pierce, a fearsome sight.

No hand can stay the turning tide,
No spell can hold the gains inside.
The cycle spins, a force we can't hide,
As sure as Kenya's sunset's stride.

The wise investor bows their head,
For crashes come, as seasons spread.
They weather storms, in markets bred,
Knowing new dawns will overhead.

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