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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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All At Once

He moves before the echoes call,
before the world confirms his role.
No signs, no proof, no promised end,
yet forward still—again, again.

The road is quiet, dry, and bare,
no cheers, no whispers in the air.
Each step a seed the ground ignores,
each day a test, a closed-tight door.

He wonders, waits—yet does not stop,
the mountain mocks, yet he won’t drop.
The hands of time move slow, then stall,
as if to say: "This leads to fall."

But patience laughs—it knows the game,
what’s dull today will burst in flame.
One crack, one spark, the dam gives way,
and floods him with the world’s "hooray!"

Too late for them—he's known for years,
success first whispers, then it cheers.
It happens slow, then all at once,
like dawn that takes the night and runs.

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