In the quiet corners of the world,
Where whispers of hope softly unfurl,
There stands a figure, silent and strong,
Bearing the weight of the right and the wrong.

With eyes that have seen the depths of despair,
Yet still reflect a light so rare,
They forge ahead, through night and day,
Unwavering, come what may.

Their hands, though calloused, never tire,
From lifting others from the mire,
A beacon of strength in times of need,
A hero not in words, but in deed.

And though their name may not be known,
Their legacy in hearts is sown,
For in the shadows, they remain,
A hero true, without the fame.