Fatal Hero

Fatal Hero prose poem

In a small town lived a small boy, who kept wooden swords and guns as toy…
‘Coz he wanted to be a hero and save people, and waited (to be a hero) till his teenage wore purple…
But still he wanted to be a hero, but he was too foolish to realize he was a complete zero;
Got wounded by a couple of addicts; but brave as he was, he never resigned;
One or two times he got lucky, and thought he prevented the crime graph from going fluffy;
Local gangsters and crime lords wanted to kill him badly,
Kidnapped our hero’s girl and raped her madly;
Saddened and devastated (and a little frustrated), he replaced his wooden swords with shinning steel ones!
And toy guns with air guns! (The one with which you kill birds!)
And our hero marched into the warehouse; right in the middle of the villains’ hideout…
Hero realized his mistake…told himself it was too late (to back out…)
So he fought and lost sadly, faced incoming bullets badly;
So long for our fatal hero, today he realized he was a mere mortal…
Saw thousands of his unfulfilled dreams shatter in front of his eyes…
But little did he realize that thousands did he inspire,
To fight crime and make it disappear… from the face of earth,
He was the fatal hero, the hero who still lives…

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2 Comments on "Fatal Hero"

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Rocean Sharma
Member

@Biswadeep_GhoshHazra Bravo…! Loved reading it…!

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