There is only a thin line between heroes and martyrs.
Become a hero in life, become a martyr in death,
The same is true.
They carved their names into stones and allowed time to refine themselves.
They are willing to turn into humble weeds and dance with the storm
They write themselves into history and become immortal with time
Capturing those magnificence and beauty is indeed aspirational. We always admire the characters under the spotlight, the splendid buildings, or perhaps a profound battle, similar to the revolution in the movie plot. Instead, we tend to forget to listen to the music woven with lamentations, and the safety gained with sweat.
Of course there is nothing wrong with this, but true greatness comes from the ordinary, just as the deep ocean is calm. Behind the glory of that war, unknown soldiers were buried without leaving their names, deep in the silent forest,
I fell asleep quietly, blending in with the sound of the white snow and the rustling wind, and nature became the only background.
Then this is also a profound and touching beauty.