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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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Knock! Knock!

Doubt may knock with a whisper thin,
A shadowed voice that creeps within.
Its fingers tap, its echoes sway,
A plea for dreams to drift away.

But at the door, a vision stands,
A lantern held in steady hands.
Its flame defies the stormy night,
A beacon fierce, a guiding light.

"Belief," it says, "is all you need,
To plant the roots, to grow the seed.
Though doubt may howl, though fear may roar,
It cannot cross this steadfast door."

For every knock, a choice is made—
To stand, to rise, to be unafraid.
And as the threshold greets the morn,
Belief unlocks a world reborn.

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