A hero stands with quiet resolve,
sees the world clearly through each storm,
not driven by glory or fame,
but by the light inside their chest,
where kindness sits like an old friend,
whispering: this is what must be done.
A hero listens when others can\'t,
hears the cries that silence hides away,
steps forward when the road is long,
and bends down where the shadows fall,
lifting the broken without a word,
holding them close like morning light.
It is not the roar of triumph made,
but the steady hum of heart and hand,
the small moments unseen by most,
where a life is changed by a simple act,
and in that, the world grows softer,
like a field blooming after the rain.