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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.

Withered Plans

A chasm yawns where coins should be,
A desert vast, where wealth should flee.
I wander lost in barren lands,
With empty hands and withered plans.

Tired eyes, a heavy heart,
A constant ache, a painful start.
Each day a battle, a losing fight,
Against the shadows of endless night.

No golden dawn, no silver gleam,
Just endless cycles of a fading dream.
A prisoner of want, a debt-bound slave,
Yearning for freedom, a hopeful grave.

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