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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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Make Things Right

I do not ask for hands to mend,  
Nor voices soft to soothe the end.  
I stitch my wounds with thread unseen,  
Through silent nights and battles keen.  

Yet in the dark where echoes fade,  
And shadows dance where scars are made,  
I cherish those who choose to stay,  
Not fix my pain, just sit and stay.  

No whispered cure, no guiding light,  
No promises to make things right.  
Just presence pure—a steady grace,  
A soul beside, no need to chase.  

For healing walks a lonesome mile,  
Yet warms when met with love's soft smile.  
So if you sit, just stay a while—  
No need for words, just share the trial.

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