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Roaming

They find the best — a golden shore, A love that is rich, yet yearn for more. They climb the peak, the summit high, Then scan again the endless sky. The jewel gleams within their hand, But whispers come like grains of sand: 'What if there is more? What if you missed A rarer stone, a sweeter kiss?' They sip the wine, refined and rare, Then search for vineyards unaware. Their hands are full, their hearts unsure — As if the finest must mature. The perfect song, the flawless art, Still doesn’t still their restless heart. For something stirs beyond the known — A haunting hunger not outgrown. They find the best, yet roam and roam, As if they never will feel home. Not out of greed, nor prideful fire — But by a ghost called Something Higher.
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Hungry For More

A whisper in shadow, a flicker, a flame,
One moment of weakness can tarnish your name.
Ten years of climbing with blood, sweat, and pain,
Undone in a heartbeat, a permanent stain.

Not all wars are fought with a sword or a gun,
Some battles are silent, inside, one-on-one.
It comes when you are lonely, it strikes when you are tired,
It offers you pleasure, then leaves you mired.

Lust is the thief that knocks on your door,
Dressed up in comfort, but hungry for more.
It feeds off your silence, your secrets, your shame,
Then laughs as it burns down your fortune and name.

Success, my son, is not built just with skill,
But with choices you guard and the strength of your will.
Discipline’s armor must shield heart and mind—
The strongest of men tame the wild from behind.

So walk with your purpose, let vision be clear,
Stand firm in the storm, though temptation is near.
For the crown that you seek, and the man you must be,
Begins with the conquest of lust’s tyranny.

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