The Architect’s Labor

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I used to work for money, bright and thin,
Watching gold like a river slip through my skin.
I sold my hours; they vanished day by day,
And time never asked if I was happy to stay.
I chased the comfort of the present’s glow,
Paying with tomorrows I didn’t yet know.
Earning to live, then living to earn,
Circling fires that refused to burn.
But I learned there were lessons hidden inside,
Skills only sharpened when comfort is denied.
I saw how value is shaped, how it’s bought and sold,
How ideas can turn raw effort into gold.
Now I build engines the world can’t yet see,
Quiet machines learning how to run free.
I pour my will into each gear and each line,
So the work keeps moving when the rest is mine.
I still earn my keep-but I’m learning much more,
No longer chained to the ticking clock’s roar.
Once a tenant, just paying for breath,
Now I own every moment of the life I have left.
And this is not mine alone to claim,
It’s the quiet choice behind every name.
Each soul must decide what price they’ll pay,
To rent their years,or to own their days.
For time is the one true currency given,
Spent without mercy, never forgiven.
So work to build more than a wage or role-
Build a life that answers the call of your soul.

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