Hero of the bright night

Heroes aren't born,
they give no scorn,
forged in fire,
of utter desire,
but never mourn,

Feeble and weak,
masses will shriek,
demanding an answer,
malignant cancer,
forever meek,

They do not fight
for what's right,
they abstract
but not act,
under the might,

Thus the hero appear,
and all give cheer,
he fights for good,
and all he should,
not all is clear,

Hero of the light,
bring thy darkest night,
once forgotten,
all goes rotten,
of anguishing delight,

Feeble we cry,
hoping to die,
nothing is pure,
forbid light to obscure,
and just defy