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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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Hands That Never Stay

They pass me by—eyes unseeing,
laughter echoing, never fleeing
toward the space I stand alone,
a name unheard, a heart unknown.

I reach for hands that never stay,
their warmth retreats, then fades away.
Perhaps they sense what I have feared—
that I am empty, nothing here.

They speak of worth, of things to give,
of value shaping how we live.
Yet, when I ask, the silence grows—
what must I learn? What must I know?

I wander lost in shadowed thought,
chasing value never caught.
A weightless ghost, I drift unseen,
a question mark where worth had been.

If knowledge builds what love demands,
then I must carve with empty hands—
molding something yet unknown,
so one day, I’m not alone.

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