What lives in the heart of the Hero?
Is it the courage of the lion?
The nobility of the majestic eagle,
Or the never-dying soul of the Gods?
The pain they feel is great,
Their torments feel all too real.
Heroes are chosen on the day of their birth
To be set apart from the world.
Without the faith they possess and keep,
This world could never stand on it's own.
The weight of the world is on their shoulders
How can they stand at all?
The one who is called the Hero
Is never the greatest fighter.
A Hero is the one who does what is right
And lives with the pain in his own heart.
Heroes are never seen in the light of the day
All the thanks they ever want or need
Is found in the eyes of those they have saved
And in the smiles of the helpless ones.
How can we ever repay them for their deeds
When we know not the faces they have
Smiling from behind their worldly masks.
There is one lone way to do this.
There are heroes all around us
Hiding their faces ion the shadows
Can we really see them for who they are?
Or all we all too blind to see?
Every Hero to stand in the sun
When the world sees who the Hero is
The world will be in shock to learn
That the Hero has been there all along.