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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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Incomplete Progress

Arms churn, a windmill in the tide,
A frantic dance, nowhere to confide.
The surface mocks, a shimmering deceit,
A false horizon, progress incomplete.

We kick and strain, a desperate ballet,
Muscles scream, lungs burning for a way
To break the cycle, gasp a breath of air,
But every stroke just keeps us tethered there.

The water's hold, a chilling, silent friend,
Numbs the will, whispers the bitter end.
Treading water, a drowning slow and sure,
Hope's flickering flame flickers dimmer, pure.

Is there a shore? A hand to reach and pull?
Or just this endless, churning, empty lull?
For in this struggle, staying just afloat,
The line is blurred, a deadly, silent note. 

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