He Isn't A Vigilante Poem by Mark Heathcote

There's a hero who's given up the fight.
Tired -of always doing what's right.

His blood is thicker than water.
For the whole human race 
Is -like a brethren brother
But even heroes need to take stock—
Drawback and sleep in their quarters.

'Question: Why do I wield a sword?
For foe or friend, I'm not a vigilante.
So why do I always fight the dragon?  
Slay the seven-headed demon.'.
 
Oh, there's got to be an end:
There are times I too want to run.
And cry and hide
Being righteous isn't always much fun.
Licking my wounds alone, none of that loving aftercare.
Is -like living in hell,  
Oh, oh, oh, why should I care?  

There's a hero who's given up the fight.
Tired -of always doing what's right.

But in truth, he can't change.
His blood is thicker than water.
For the whole human race 
Is -like a brethren brother
So he'll fight; he'll charge into the carnage.
Into the inferno, wielding his blade, his sword alone
For his foes or a friend
Whoever's need is most, he'll fight until the end.

He isn't a vigilante.
He's just a hero who'll never give up on the side of right.
Immeasurably his courage only wants to right a wrong
His heart wants only to stand in the unit ranks of yeomanry.
Till his soul is slain or taken home for real rightly.