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Rated: E · Poetry · Fantasy · #2161832
Are you the hero of your story? Or do you have another purpose?
I used to think myself the hero,
Blazing my own trail.
But many times I fell quite short,
With no successful tale.

But heroes can't succeed at all,
Without some kind of aid.
It doesn't matter where it's from,
From maestro or from maid.

Knowing this, I began to see,
A hero? No, not I.
Instead my part was something more,
Though I knew not why.

The path ahead was murky, dark,
My footing, couldn't find.
And yet I traveled further on,
For I'd made up my mind.

And in the dark, when all was black,
A soft light did appear.
My vision did adjust in kind,
No shadow did I fear.

For in my breast that ember glowed,
That fought against the night.
But had I never stumbled here,
I'd have never seen the light.

That's when I did find my cause,
To give light to the dark.
So when a hero came this way,
They had passage, their own ark.

But even I am growing weary,
Of the darkness here.
For no one's meant to be alone,
Devoid of any cheer.

So before my glow does fade away,
And no longer will I see.
I pray for my own heroine,
To come and rescue me.

And with her love, my heart will glow
Forever more indeed.
Her light, her consort, will I be,
The hero's mark, I cede.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2161832