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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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Lost Days

The world may shake, the storms may rise,
The weight of loss may cloud your skies.
But fate is not a heavy chain,
Unless you choose to call it pain.

For trials knock on every door,
Yet not all bow—some rise once more.
The past may whisper, fear may shout,
But you decide what life's about.

Your word, your trust, the way you stand—
Not shaped by fate, but by your hand.
For strength is built where courage stays,
Not in the echoes of lost days.

Let not the world define your name,
Nor hardship be your endless frame.
You are not what they have done,
But what you choose—a setting sun,
Or rising light, a fire bright,
A victor standing in the night.

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