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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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Piercing Dreams

They stand at the edge where courage fades,  
Casting stones from their sheltered glades,  
Words like arrows, sharp and keen,  
Piercing dreams they’ve never seen.  

For every risk they chose to shun,  
They lash at those who dared to run,  
Justifying their idle stay,  
By tearing others’ dreams away.  

The climb is steep, the winds may howl,  
Yet brave hearts rise where others cowl.  
The critic’s voice, a hollow sound,  
Chained to fears that keep them bound.  

But risk is a fire, it tempers the soul,  
Forging the daring into something whole.  
While critics linger, safe yet small,  
The bold ascend, despite the fall.  

So let them speak; their words are weak,  
Born of paths they dared not seek.  
For every leap, a flame ignites,  
And lights the dark for daring flights.

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