Each scarred inch of body,
Every lost life,
Every friend left behind,
A hero’s story is told.

Yet, sometimes the heroes,
Never meets this praise,
Why? Because they knew,
That good actions are like the wind.

They don the apparel,
They don the eyes,
Of the enemy,
with hidden morals.

The reason why,
Isn’t so hard to find,
The Hero gets seen,
The Villian gets remembered.

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