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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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WHY?

Why do so many struggle and strain,
Like lost sailors drowning in rain?
It is like asking, "Why is the night
Wrapped in shadows, void of light?"

Darkness comes as the sun must set,
And struggle, too, is nature’s net.
Not a curse, nor fate unkind,
But a challenge to sharpen the mind.

Some will stumble, curse the way,
Blame the night and dread the day.
Trapped in echoes of their cries,
Lost beneath complaining skies.

Yet some will strike a spark to see,
To light the path where none may be.
They face the dark, but light a flame,
Solving problems all the same.

For night is certain, yet lamps still glow.
Struggles linger, yet answers grow.
To respond is strength—to act is key.
Not just to suffer, but to be.

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