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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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Hair of Might

A crown of courage, wild and free,
Roots deep within, where spirit glees.
You sever, shear, or clip with care,
But from the scalp, new life will dare.

A canvas painted with time's hand,
A story woven across the land.
Though storms may rage and winds may blow,
It rises stronger, a steadfast show.

Resilience incarnate, hair of might,
A symbol of hope, a guiding light.
In every follicle, a promise gleams,
Of endless growth, of wildest dreams. 

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