Where Is The Passion? Where Is The Fight?
Where is the passion?
Where is the fight?
You once had a fire that
burned bright through the night
It shone through the mud you wallowed in
It shone through grief you were swallowed in
It outshone Hell's flames that licked at your heels
It outshone the light Death's door to you revealed
Where is the passion?
Where is the fight?
You once had a spirit of
Incomparable might
It pushed you to excel and to overcome
It pushed you out from under Plight's thumb
It fought against those who said you never could
It fought harder still because you knew you would
Where is the passion?
Where is the fight?
You've been broken, you've swayed
So I'll lend my insight
A hero you remain to me and in the meantime
A hero I'll look after and care for as mine
All heroes must fall for we're imperfect men, but
All heroes will rise up to battle again
poem by Argentine Tango
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Related quotes
Time For Heroes
We search for an answer,
And when it appears
We can challenge the world with our sweat and our tears.
Through winning and losing,
The brave never bend,
The hero keeps fighting, standing tall in the end.
Time can change anything...and mend any fall.
The moment of truth is facing us all,
It's time for the hero to stand tall.
It's a time for heroes,
Time to answer the call,
It's a time for the hero in us all.
We carry the flame
For all to see
The fire and the passion, of what we can be.
Sometimes we must fight,
But we never bend
The hero keeps fighting, standing tall in the end.
Love can change anything...it's inside of us all
To reach out a hand whenever we fall.
It's time for the hero to stand tall.
It's a time for heroes,
Time to answer the call,
It's a time for the hero to stand tall.
It's a time for heroes,
When our back's to the wall
It's a time for the hero...in us all
song performed by by Meat Loaf
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Hero Is Born.
A hero is born out of the gutter he comes. The rich plot his death and kingdoms want him gone. A hero is born; out of oppression he came the spark of a change is what he brings. A hero is born; into hate is where he lives, yet he smiles and says I am the way. A hero is born and now the wealthy will cry, for he is a lord in disguise. A hero was born to be a champion of the poor but first he must die so he can be reborn. A hero has come and soon you will cry no more for this hero is the truth and freedom he brings. no matter who or where, you can be free. for the hero I speak of is the one who made me. at all truth I cry and strive in pain but the hero has many names. So my loved ones and all! The little heroes in the sea. Remember he is with you and me. So take heart and war with me fight the good fight and one day we will be one with three.
poem by Gary Manning
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Dedicated to my Brother, Cole
You gave your life to protect our Freedom...
You are my Hero...
You marched fearlessly into the gunfire...
You are my Hero...
You didnt run and hide or retreat...
You are my Hero...
You fought for what is right...
You are my Hero...
They always say that Heroes have to have taught you something...
You did...
You taught me to be brave...
To fight for what is right...
You taught me to be strong and to be strong for others...
You gave for life...
You marched fearlessly...
You didnt run or hide...
You fought...
You are my Hero.
poem by Katti Janea Wellmaker
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Your Hero
The heroes of the masses they live for their renown
And the masses create their heroes and then drag their heroes down
And the masses are unpredictable they change from day to day
And some of their heroes like the Autumn flowers are quick to fade away.
Yet there are millions of unsung heroes and they live on every street
And every day a hero I feel privileged to meet
True heroes male and female yet by the masses unsung
The World is full of heroes of heroes old and young.
Some heroes of the masses are arrogant and proud
And their egos over-swollen from the adulation of the crowd
But give me the unsung heroes who go their own quiet way
Who out of the kindness of their hearts perform one good deed every day.
Many heroes of the masses are not heroes to me
Though every day I walk the street some true hero I do see
Your hero is chauffeur driven and drinks the most expensive wine
And you can have your hero but your hero isn't mine.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Hero?
Hail great hero!
Hero brave!
We praise you hero!
I your slave
Now duly fall
On giving knee
In hero worship
Unto thee!
Now did you hero save our globe
When draped in classic hero’s robe?
And did it flow as reddened blood
As battles raged in fields of mud?
Oh hero tell me of your fame:
Were writhing serpents fair your game?
Did you pierce the dragon’s heart
Intrepid hero; play the part
When Tyrant slain in hero’s fight
On quaking ground thro’ battle’s might?
And did you hero conquer evil -
Waste the minions of the devil?
Oh valiant hero, does your armour
Gleam from ventures steeped in valour?
Your sword oh hero, sparks a glint
From charging steel to give the hint
Of what great chapters Hero's Tome
Might tell to us when heroes roam
Through lands of yore when goblins vile
Sought a chance to kill for bile.
Oh hail thy hero,
Hero tall!
Bless you hero,
As I fall
In blushing shame,
I speak to me…
This mirror aids to fantasise
That I be hero worldly wise,
But meek and mild is all I am:
Hero naught; unbridled scam.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
Hero hero hero hero
Hero hero hero hero
Hero hero hero hero
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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The Final Old Hero
The final old hero has faded away
His bones even beyond the state of decay
He gave rise to many a patriotic song
But to Mother Nature he finally belong.
He was a great King in a Land from here far
And he was one who led his army in war
He died a true hero on the battle-ground
And stories about him in folklore abound.
No heroes amongst the war leaders of today
From the heat of the battle they stay far away
The children of others for them fight and die
And the rewards of renown and wealth they enjoy.
I see them as manipulative deceitful and sly
Yet that the majority cannot see through them I do wonder why
For what they truly are many them cannot see
And the hero to many is a coward to me.
Though his legend inspired the bards for to rhyme
The final old hero almost forgotten in time
He led his men in war and in battle he died
And true greatness of him never can be denied.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Duellists
He threw down a glove you made the mistake
Of picking it up now youre gone
The choosing of guns or fighting with swords
The choice of weapons is done
Hell tear you apart as soon as you start
You know you dont have a chance.
Chorus
Oh...oh...fight for the honour
Fight for the splendour
Fight for the pleasure
Oh...oh...fight for the honour
Fight for the splendour
Fight for your life!
Ready to start the duel begins the best man wins in the end.
A lunge and a feint, a parry too late
A cut to the chest and youre down
Seeing the stain then feeling the pain
Feeling the sweat on your brow.
Chorus
The fighting resumes, a silence looms the swordsmen move gainst each
Other
A cut and a thrust, a parry, a blow, a stab to the heart and youre down
The angel of death hears your last breath
Meanwhile the reaper looks on.
Chorus
Oh...oh...fought the honour
Fought for the splendour
Fought for the pleasure
Oh...oh...fought for the honour
Fought for the splendour
Fought to the death
song performed by by Iron Maiden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wars
honor of those who went
to war to fight for those
who they want to protect.
liberty of freedom, heroes
of our times,
the one who in arm we took
the ones who made us change
the on the battle field that took to protcet
kills and blood in the war
our brothers
and sister who fought in the war we
phrase you with glory and victory
perhap one day we will fight in war as well
they did for us.
poem by Andres Gonzalez
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The Battle Field Of Life
Many have been wounded on the
battlefield of life. Wounded, in
their homes, streets and back
alleys of social interaction.
In the battle to survive, are there
more formidable enemies, than
grief, loneliness, illness, poverty,
and lost love?
So many, although seemingly
defeated, by an army of foes,
to opposition of life and living,
they fight...go on.
Countless millions, are wounded by
emotional bullets...lethal grenades
of death, taking a loved one... and the
machine gun fire, of cancer and
other devastating diseases.
Yet, with a courage that can not be
measured, these unsung heroes
..go on.
Let there be a Congressional Medal
Of Honor, for life, for those unsung
heroes and their unyielding courage. Let
them know, in their time of need,
we shall provide them with, they emotional
medicine and care they require.
Love, compassion and understanding.
The next time, the word 'hero' is spoken,
look around, for on the battlefield of
life, there are millions, 'of unsung hero's.'
Called Them Heros...
Many have been wounded on the
battlefield of life. Wounded, in
their homes, streets and back
alleys of social interaction.
In the battle to survive, are there
more formidable enemies, than
grief, loneliness, illness, poverty,
and lost love?
So many, although seemingly
defeated, by an army of foes,
to opposition of life and living,
they fight...go on.
Countless millions, are wounded by
emotional bullets...lethal grenades
of death, taking a loved one... and the
machine gun fire, of cancer and
other devastating diseases.
Yet, with a courage that can not be
measured, these unsung heroes
..go on.
Let there be a Congressional Medal
Of Honor, for life, for those unsung
heroes and their unyielding courage. Let
them know, in their time of need,
we shall provide them with, they emotional
medicine and care they require.
Love, compassion and understanding.
The next time, the word 'hero' is spoken,
look around, for on the battlefield of
life, there are millions, 'of unsung hero.
Plastic Passion
Plastic passion is a hard to handle
Plastic passion is a sold out scandal
Oh it's a plastic passion
It's a plastic passion
Plastic passion is the ladies lover
Plastic passion is the marble mother
Oh it's a plastic passion
It's a plastic passion
Plastic passion is a diamond delight
Plastic passion is the nadir of night
Oh it's a plastic passion
It's a plastic passion
It's a plastic passion
Plastic passion is a hycoscine heart
Plastic passion is a transparent tart
Oh it's a plastic passion
It's a plastic passion
Plastic passion is a gold guarantee
The plastic passion is murdering me
Oh it's a plastic passion
It's a plastic passion
It's a plastic passion
song performed by by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In The Years Of Sarsfield
I wish I were over the Curlew Mountains,
Marching to Sligo by valley and fen;
I wish I were back in the years of Sarsfield,
Tramping the rough roads with him and his men.
I wish that I stood upon Yellow Island,
Watching the camp that the Williamites made;
I wish that my good gun was pressed to my shoulder
And that my caubeen held the white cockade.
I wish I were out with 'galloping Hogan,'
Happy a guide for my hero to be,
Encamped for the night on the Keeper Mountain,
Ready to guard with the brave rapparee.
I wish I had been in the woods of Cullen
In the dark night when the battle began;
I wish I had heard at the wan moon's rising
'Sarsfield the word, and Sarsfield the man.'
I wish I were young at the siege of Limerick,
Holding the breach there and glad in the fight;
Ah, could I but see him, King William of Orange,
With his troops defeated ready for flight.
Had I but stood on the bridge of Athlone, there
Flinging the plank and beam into the wave,
Keeping the broken arch, as the last hero stood
Fighting the fight of death, one of the brave.
I wish I had fought in the flood of the Shannon
With the grim Dutchmen, to conquer or drown,
Left without shot or shell by the false Maxwell,
Into the deep had that traitor gone down.
I wish I had fought in the battle of Aughrim
By the black bog on the side of the hill,
Seeing there Ginkel's men fall to disquietude,
Failing with Sarsfield meant living still.
I wish I had flown with the Wild Geese across the sea,
Knelt on red Landen's plain, facing the foe;
Holding the dear head of Sarsfield on my heart,
Knowing from his brave blood heroes would grow.
Ah, had I sailed to far France out of Galway,
There on the deck the spy Maxwell to see,
Bishop or Luttrell never had stayed me from
'Tossing the Scotsman right into the sea.'
poem by Dora Sigerson Shorter
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Hallmarks Of The Hero
From ancient times, each hero stood
Against each evil foe
And for the good did what he should,
Heroic deeds to show...
The humble hero knew his place,
To sacrifice his all,
Perhaps to save the human race
Or teach God's truth like Paul...
From time-to-time, their tales are told,
Like stories, nothing more,
Like parables, though good as gold,
We might choose to ignore...
We were not there, not witness to
Their strength and bravery,
Yet credit where credit is due,
Meant for posterity...
Initiative is borne of faith,
Directing every thought,
Is there someone I'm meant to save?
Some battle to be fought?
Is there a maiden in distress?
Some Princess I'm to love?
Some King that I must yet impress?
Or challenge rise above?
Perseverance has helped them, too,
How else could they endure?
To keep in mind that point of view
That helps them suffer more...
For sacrifice is everywhere,
As every parent learns...
But what are heroes without prayer,
If God above each spurns?
Thus heroes have a right to choose,
Freewill determines fate,
Another fight to win or lose,
The victor thought as great...
Consider every hero known
And all they sacrificed...
Of all of these, one stands alone...
Our Saviour, Jesus Christ...
Denis Martindale, copyright, February 2012.
We can hear the word of the Lord on
Revelation TV on UK Sky Digital 581
as well as the WATCH NOW link on
the revelationtv-dot-com website...
poem by Denis Martindale
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A Real Hero
A REAL HERO
Some people come into our life and quickly go. Some stay for a while and leave footprints on our hearts. And we are never, ever the same.
We admire some people because they are good at what they do and we want to be like them.
Both actions and character are keys to what it takes to be a hero. Perhaps a person is your hero because he or she is extremely honest, or may be that person fought to improve a bad situation or helped someone in great need.
Recipe of a hero: Although heroes are unique, there is a common denominator. A hero makes a difference to the lives of others, often without fanfare. The influence of a hero's actions can live long after the actual deeds are forgotten.
A hero models the great possibilities of the human spirit. This can help us discover our own talents and heroic qualities.
But remember: Heroes are only human. They may not do everything right all the time.
Learning to understand their mistakes and putting them into perspective is a sign of maturity. So imitate the good in others, while always trying to be our own unique best selves.
poem by Bhumika Wadhwa
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That Most Humans Crave For Glory
That most humans crave for glory is surely not a lie
And though you well may love your Country for your Country why should you die
Since dead heroes like dead cowards cannot help their Country in any way
Whilst alive you can help your Country even though you look old and gray
The dead hero cannot hear the bugler when the last post it is played
Though some may say his ghost is present at every war parade
The deserter is dishonoured from the fight he ran away
But to his Country he's of some use he's alive and well today
The dead hero he is honoured though to him that of no use
For to justify their recent war the war leaders use the war dead as an excuse
For another bloody battle a war they themselves will not fight in
Though in every war that ever was humanity did not win
You cannot serve your Country by dying for it so live for as long as you can
And die hopefully a painless death as a very old man.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Your Hero Will Never Be Mine
By the way you talk of your hero one would swear out of him the sun shine
Don''t try to convince me of his worth your hero will never be mine
To me your hero is responsible of crimes against humanity
Because of him thousands have died and thousands more maimed and injured why do you talk of him to me.
Our values are so very different I''m not saying you are wrong and I''m right
The one that you say is your hero I look on as a lesser light
I won''t argue with you about politics that''s not why I came in here tonight
I came here for a few quiet drinks and all I need is peace and quiet.
Go tell someone else of your hero since of him I do not wish to hear
You know how I feel on that subject so leave me for to drink my beer
For an argument you seem to be looking though for such I am not in the mood
You tell someone else of your hero forgive me if I do seem rude.
I don''t talk to you of my heroes as my heroes would seem cowards to you
But each to their own I believe in and those words as ever ring true
How come all of your heroes are war men did war ever solve anything
The war dead we well may remember but they can''t hear those whom their praises sing.
Don''t talk to me about your hero his type to me does not appeal
''Twould seem you are trying to annoy me since about him you know how I feel
I came here just for a few quiet drinks and since your hero is not a hero to me
Go talk to someone else about him and with what you say they may even agree.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Passion of Fire
My heart was started by a spark,
burst into flames.
Now I am like a lamp on a hill,
everyone sees me and my passion.
I'm on fire, I'm burning bright.
You made the spark,
kindled the flame,
gave this fire the passion of the night.
Its burning bright, through the night,
its never going out or dimming.
Its the passion of the fire,
its the passion of life.
The life you gave,
was meant to amaze.
Now with you in me,
I illuminate the darkness.
I'm on fire,
running with the flame, the passion
touching people,
letting them catch the fire, catch your Love.
It never fades away,
this passion deep in me,
it'll burn till the end of day.
poem by Mistral Love
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No Taking My Fire and Passion
There's a fire in my eyes
a passion in my soul
that no one can quench.
This fire that leads my life
takes no pauses
this passion has ne doing
anything and everything
to do what my passion commands
the desires of my passion
are unquenchable and
uncontainable. you want some
of this girls free tough
you can't get none. you want to
take her passion away
goodluck. hahaha your
feeble attempts make me
laugh. There is no taking
my fire or passion too.
so not sorry and I hope you'll
one day find a fire and passion
of your own rather than trying to take mine
It Was His Call
It was his call
That hero who nearly risked it all.
His country called him
The day our freedom was tested.
It was his call
A hero to us all.
He knew the stories
So many did not come home
He knew the sacrifice
Could be of his life
But he thought of his Savior
And the foundation of this country
And he remembered
The sacrifices of all
The heroes who had
Fought the battle.
Copyright Michelle R Kidwell
July.03.09
2: 11 P.M PST
poem by Michelle Kidwell
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The Passion Within
For us to feel the passion within
We give each other love and sex
He's always there to comfort me
Even though we fight terribly
He is my hero and my knight
Who saved me from my past
In my life he guides me as my light
For us to feel the passion within
We give each other love and sex
Our lips brush against each other
Our tounges then mingle together
poem by Krissy Alley
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