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By: Jose All
roses have thorns, All puppies their bite, All women have scorn, That
is cold through the night. A hero can cry, when he has been wronged,
And hero’s can die, when a life goes too long. No one is forever, but
children are born, To take father’s places, to bear again the scorn.
So it is that heroes are few, and also far between, To protect the weak,
from the thieving and mean. Some have succeeded, and others have failed
One has preceded, when other’s have wailed. Hero’s take care, you are
not immortal, In your quest to justify, do nothing immoral. Heroes can
die, without passing on, When they turn evil, the hero is gone. Turn
away from the dark, and into the light, Fight not for the devil, instead
for the good fight. Turn to the angels, they will guide you through
death. They will insure your place, above all the rest. Walk the way
of the angels, walk in their way, And when you do go, it will not be
in vain.
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