I was told many stories where the hero never fails,
The Hero was always altruistic and cared for his kin,
The Hero who never lost a fight or thought of a sin.
When I was let free, I behaved with utmost propriety,
I worked with integrity and cared for all in the society.
I was taken aback by many of those narcissistic men,
Men who were cruel wild animals, just not in the den.
I promised to myself to make my storytellers proud,
I had hoped and worked to stand out from that crowd.
As time progressed, we moved into the civilised lot,
The chaos of life blurred this promise to be just a thought.
The tower that stood tall was gradually gathering rust,
I was becoming self-aware and cared for only who I trust,
I looked at the man in the mirror and couldn’t identify,
For the face was full of scars from acts I shall not defy.
It was today when a human asked me if I was tired,
All I did was reply, never realising why one inquired.
Why does this version of me feel so outlandish?
Maybe I became the one I loathed, THE SELFISH…