Life is often so ugly
So cruel
We tread sadly
With heavy footsteps
Hoping that
Perhaps
We will see a light
In the distance
With broken hearts
Barely beating
And eyes searching
We hope
We look for grace
We look for a savior
Sometimes one comes
A white night
On a powerful steed
But are we truly saved?
Being carried
Away to a gilded cage
Where we must play the victim
So the hero may triumph
Real heroism comes from
Within
It comes in a whisper
A moment when you realize that
You can take the next step
Not carried like a child
But putting one foot in front of the other
That is the triumph
That makes you the hero
Place your faith not in the savior
But in your own heart
Scarred but still beating