As bright as the sun,
Adoration suddenly filling in her eyes.
Illuminating this world,
Favoured by all.
She called them superheroes.
Resided in a place where Marvel and DC couldn't make life more meaningful.
Inspired, as she felt the traumas and scars of heroes.
A feeling arose inside her mortal body,
To Yearn for something unique.
Wished everyday,
to find some powers in her veins one day.
Inside she knew,
The love for people with magic won't die this day.
But when the power was gained,
The game suddenly changed.
A freak is what she called her,
A person who no longer could blend into crowd.
But her heart always replied,
Jealous are these people to see how magical you are born.
And all was left,
Just to be called as a messiah.
Observed all these by her little sister,
Envied she felt,
Why she wasn't gifted enough?
The fiction, the fantasies is all what stood in front of her.
An old lady she met a blissful day,
Criticised how cruel was life,
To not to give her magic.
A drastic turn took her life,
As she listened the words of wise.
A hero can be anybody.
Scoffing is all, the little one did.
To keep the worldview aside for a second the wise one said.
This world may not be a movie,
You and I may have not been born with scars and superpowers.
But,
Never can it be concluded,
that you and I are not heroes or Villians.
Suit and cape it's just not about.
Doing big things it's just not about
Saving the whole world or entire universe from an outsider, it's just not about.
The inner flicker inside of you that wants to change, its about.
Change yearned by every being,
But a list is of few.
Digestion of such huge words couldn't be done by that little curious one.
It was long boring theories she often had heard.
To be an hero is if what she seeked asked the wisdom.
Option of no wasn't even there.
Reason not required by soldiers and doctors,
A piece of art, made by the musicians
A place where hope is vanished
favourite songs suddenly arose new hope
As if miseries never existed.
who makes us see the world,
In a way no being as seen.
For and makes understand that life can be evil yet still be beautiful.
They call her artist.
When life appears as a cul-de-sac,
Inspiration can't be traced even in the single neuron of the one.
The one who helps them,
They call her writer.
By sanctifying his or her soul,
Calm it inside and realise that one's life doesn't need a miracle to be beautiful but one's choice can.
They called them readers, just like you.
And just like that,
Hero can be anyone.
To feel sad if one hadn't done some life risking task is just a mere waste.
Your own happiness can make people around you happy.
And just like that you are an hero
