This is one of the many works I've done for my 'Creative Writing' class at school. I hope you enjoy and, as always, feedback is welcome.
He was a symbol
for humanity.
Courageous and strong,
dependable and safe.
A one man army.
A title plastered to
a figure, a man.
"Commander, Shepard,
Savior, Hero!"
Voices muddle to a fog,
an ocean of praise and prayer.
Was this title fairly given?
A true hero through and through?
Idealistic and true?
Hordes see the armor,
hear the voice, knowing all
will be saved. "The Commander
is here," they say "no fear, be
brave."
Anchored to him, but so distant,
so foreign.
Covered in iron plating, a
man stands strong. The fate
of all life looms above, a pressure
unable to be raised.
A face beneath the mask, a name
beyond the title. Unkown to the
public, as it must remain.
For the world doesn't make
heroes anymore. Eyes turn to the
heavens and say, "but I'll
try."
