The hero dies at the end of this story We all know how it goes The same old song goes on and on So strap in and raise your chins Its a scene we already know The hero dies at the end of the story And were left wondering What even was the point of it all?
There’s a thin line between hero and villain. Everyone’s a hero in their own story, But someone must be the villain. Both are born through trauma and grief, Yet one rises above While one brings others down. A gentle push from fate Spirals an innocent mind. Eventually a choice is made. The proverbial line is drawn. And teetering on that line Is the indifference of man, Waiting for their push.
As the thoughts of Night cruelly meander I await your light like a Czech Leander to guide me over the river of sadness my Hero's arms purifying my madness after I appear soaked by the nightly swim ready to hear your voice that sings like the most beautifuly flock of birds you are a true shepherd of my mental herds
The Villain A normal civilian, A soldier in the war again innocence, An open minded critic of morals and tradition, A seeker of glory only obtained by those without shame, An optimistic individual with no plans for love, just blueprints for unconditional pain,
The villain, An object that those who do nothing use to avoid the blame.
You're a superhero, without any cape. You've some special super powers, No ordinary person can have. All your life you faced this cruel world, But still are standing so firm and so strong. You're an angel, And this is not the world from where you belong. You deserve only happiness, And no any harm. My strength, my heart, my power is you Thank you my dear mother, For being an amazing father too.