The clock stroke twenty three

The clock in the auditorium stroke twenty three, and a voiced echoed through the grand hall.

" Wars are coming to an end " words that were simple was said by gray haired man in his early seventies;" We still need our heroes... Our humanity is built on heroes, and those must portray a divinity to humankind... If one fails to grasp that notion, his actions will be useless... A hero can have any form, look at the sun, it gave us life while the moon gave us light in the night, it was not part of their true nature, yet they offered it without any conditions.. " The gray haired man stopped, his mouth was getting dry, a glass of water stood on the podium and he drank it...

" Ive seen many fall to their own nature, i dont blame them, its part of our nature... You see, if you cant be the hero, then be yourself, bring in your own children into this world, teach them the importance of humanity, be their hero in this world. Even if someone fails to be a hero to humanity, be the greatest hero to your children "

The old mans eyes gazed through the auditorium, his words echoed through the emptiness. He stood quiet and listened as they spoke just below the wooden floor he stood on.