Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sitting in a swirl of unease,
Hope hum's a loving tune.
Erasing traces of fear and chaos,
But clamouring to be heard in full.
A noble knight Hope becomes,
Treasured by the feeble mind,
Respected by the heroic soul.
Hope sits in the metaphysical.

Blushing with discomfort she
Calls to her knight. Hope dashing,
Settles in her mind, lifting her fear.
The villain has passed, her mind slows.
Hope the hero again, her crutch,
No need to strengthen defences.
Hope has galloped to her heed,
Back to the meta Hope rides.

Distaste swells in his soul,
Has she left his heart to die?
Will she take all that was his?
Hope storms through his thoughts,
Lifting one above all the rest.
She cares still, her thoughts are of him.
Hope, chest barrelled slips back
To the metaphysical, cozy once more.

Hope, gentle upon his throne,
See's in the distance Despair,
Who slithers up his golden steps.
She scowls at his taunting grin,
Her eyes keen on his destruction,
But today she has brought tea.
Stepping down from his holy height
Hope stands tall awaiting.
Drooling, Despair pours him
A cup. Her presence greeted
With captivation, and the two
Flow for hours in conversation,
Until both receive call from the
Physical ones again.
Gideon Mar 8
Brave Hero,
You wish to save the world?
With your aspirations, you can run for miles
With your dreams, you can burn through metal.
With your hopes, you can destroy even mountains.

But, Brave Hero!
You must learn your lesson!
Running is only avoidance.
Burning is only rage.
Destroying is only vengeance

Oh, Brave Hero!
You must know these three truths!
Know them in your body.
Know them in your mind.
Know them even in your soul.

Brave Hero,
It's okay if you only save one person.
It’s okay if that person is you.
It’s okay.
Gideon Mar 8
We are all heroes in someone’s story.
A brief moment.
A needed word.
A helping hand.

We all question if we’re the bad guy.
In the sink, we see blood.
In the mirror, we see the villain.
In our heads, we hear the victims.

We all are just normal people in the end.
Flying through life.
Saving the people we love.
Protecting what we care about.

We may be the heroes after all.
Gideon Mar 8
What makes a tragedy?
A hero in the wrong story
A child in the wrong household
A man in the wrong marriage
A woman in the wrong family
Reece Feb 21
A hero may wear a cape,
But that doesn’t mean they’re Superman,
They all pale in comparison,
Just another human,
Whether a man or a woman,
Their motives hidden behind their ribbons
Trying to make the world a better place.

A hero may preach peace,
But that doesn’t mean they believe it,
Often it’s just about their image.
The war must go on,
Never will everyone be happy,
There’s too much to complain about,
To be ungrateful about,
To not see the beauty of the planet we call home.
The hero may say they are against this complaining,
Yet, you see them in the streets doing the exact same thing.

Never meet your heroes,
You realize how much you inflated their heroics,
When you meet them in person,
You see how, perhaps, they weren’t a hero at all.
They aren’t a villain,
Just not a hero,
Not what you originally believe,
Yet you convinced yourself they were perfect.
Perfection is a losing game.

What makes a hero?
What makes someone noble?
Or have honor?
Or courage?
People love to play these roles,
Put them on like a wolf in sheep’s clothing,
You can always spot a fake,
They just feel disingenuous.
How can you have honor,
And preach your mantra,
Yet cut in the lunch line,
Like you’re better than all of the rest behind you?
That’s not honor!
That’s being a two-faced dishonorable fraud!
Like so many people,
Who wear the “honorable” facade.

I wouldn’t call myself honorable,
I’ve done things I’m not proud of,
Made mistakes I regret,
Have demons in my heart,
Who remind me where I misstep.
I refuse to identify,
As something I’m not,
It makes me feel icky,
Dishonest, and like a fraud.
Who relishes this feeling,
Of lying for qualities they don’t have?
What do you gain?
Recognition?
Fame?
All temporary in the grand scheme of the game.

A hero isn’t pure,
They’ve done things they despise themselves for,
Yet they try their best,
To not make the same mistake again.
They try to make a change,
Instead of complaining!

A hero isn’t good,
Or great,
And certainly not extraordinary,
They’re decent,
Down to earth,
Understanding of their faults,
Yet they push forward anyway.
They try to please people,
Not worth their time,
All in an effort,
To see them smile.
They try to save people,
To far gone to save,
Yet, they try anyway,
For they can’t accept,
That some people can’t be saved,
And are lost in the darkness.

Nobility,
Not kings or queens,
But high standards and ideas,
Yet to be expressed,
They haven’t found the words.
A hero has morals,
One’s that won’t change,
Based on who they talk to,
Their code remains the same.
That’s what takes honor,
That’s what takes strength,
Being yourself despite the gremlins,
And the goblins,
And the orcs,
Being yourself,
No matter who’s watching.
“With integrity and honor,
For people to see.”
Words long forgotten,
In our memories.

Integrity requires honor,
Which requires being noble,
Which goes hand in hand with courage and bravery.
A hero is all of these things,
Combined into a pie,
And though we humans try to replicate the recipe,
We end up exploding the kitchen,
Leaving fallout in our wake.

To me the idea of a hero,
Is more reliable than seeing it in reality,
Someone so honest,
So kind,
Understanding,
And always fighting for what they believe is right.

A villain is a hero,
Just for the other side,
With other motives,
And ways of working things out,
And the hero is the villain to the villain.
Who is right and who is wrong?
The common question.
Often times it’s not so black and white,
Nuances aplenty,
If you open your eyes.
Some are just cruel,
But some have a reason for the heinous actions they do,
Occasionally,
I root for the villain.

We may come close,
But we will never see the perfect hero,
He’s already left.
While we wait,
We can dream,
And aspire to be,
Like Superman.
As the old pledge went,
“When no one else is watching,
It is up to me!”
And so it always will be,
For each of us is the hero in our own story…
Heroes...how we wish we could be them, without fully understanding the struggle or the moral strength it requires.
Emery Feine Feb 10
He started his own fire,
then he put it out.
They called him a "hero."
You know who this is about.

(People are incapable of change.)
triginta quattuor felonias
Faith Cubitt Feb 7
you were uprooting me and not even trying to hide it....
ripping me apart from the seems on purpose.
like it gave you some sort of pleasure to sit there and destroy me.
i could feel the life being ****** out of my soul, and i screamed your name because you were supposed to be my hero.
i was drowning.... but you were the reason.
you just kept pushing me down further and further, as i screamed for help.
screaming
and
screaming
and
screaming
trying so hard to hold on, grasp anything i could to escape this torturous reality.
but you were everywhere, stabbing me from every angle.
you were supposed to save me.
my hero.
I was so alive.... what happened?.... you....
muizz Dec 2024
This is the story of us,
we were the heroes and the villains,
we were the bravest one, the lions,
a tight-knit group, a family so near,
the kindred peers, for a hundred years.

In your presence,
the world feels safe,
my steps find peace,
through the highs and lows,
I miss our journey,
together we plowed.

We are like Frodo Baggins,
Hearts torn apart,
fate's cruel hand at play,
lives take separate ways,
new adventures to lay
new friends we now have,
fresh memories made,
though it all feels different,
this is how fate fades,
this is the story of us.
My classmates and I,
our long journey has come to an end.
Nahin Nov 2024
In the end,
what matters only is-
how well you look
into the eyes of
your child,

being brave to stand
as a hero or
ashamed as a villain.
Some justifications are so true they even touch the blinds.
Em MacKenzie Oct 2024
Spilled pill pieces
like crushed up Reese’s
I found my thesis;
in an empty stomach.
I formed some habits,
they reproduced like rabbits
and if I couldn’t stab it
I’d try to make it plumbic.
Decide to destroy at any cost,
I can’t hide or play coy; I’m my final boss.

I’m so messed up that I used to enjoy the battle;
while I lost, I lost to myself so I’d win.
Lamb to slaughter but too much guilt for the cattle,
maybe a sort of pacification that we can begin.
No cheat codes for this game we play.
All we sow is the seeds for another day.

Blurry scenes
and forgotten dreams,
no ends to a means,
but it started quite simple.
It began with quiet sighs
and tired bagged eyes
my grin would rise
but it seems I lost my dimples.
I was stumbling and swaying yet so lost,
fumbling while playing; I’m my final boss.

I was so messed up that I used to enjoy the game;
while I lost, I lost to myself all the same.
There’s no contra code and no extra lives,
no easy mode, no new game plus to replay twice.
No cheat codes for this game we play.
I keep wishing I could pause, wishing I could just stay.

There’s no save spot in sight,
no shrine and no campfire.
My hands gripping on so tight
my mind and my eyes tire.
I wished to be the hero of time,
always scared that I’d become a Ganon.
It took some work but my Zelda’s mine
I hope that ending stays canon.
But life is something that can’t be cheated,
destiny can’t ever be defeated.
Next page