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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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This Dream Is Not Mine

They say it’s a battle of numbers and plans,
A game of the clever, the wise, the sharp hands.
But behind the ledgers, beneath the charts,
Entrepreneurship wages a war of the heart.

The mind may draft a flawless design,
Yet fear will whisper, "This dream isn’t mine."
Doubt will linger, cold and stark,
A shadow creeping inside the dark.

The heart must fight when the losses rise,
When silence answers your battle cries.
It must bleed for visions yet unseen,
For roads unpaved, for the space between.

The mind may learn, adapt, adjust,
But only the heart can dare to trust.
For strategy falters when passion is weak,
And logic alone won’t climb the peak.

So let them say it's numbers and schemes,
Let them measure success by tangible means.
But the war is won by those who stand—
Not with their mind, but with their hand
Pressed firm against their beating chest,
Where fire outlasts every test.

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