Moral Compass (Sonnet)

As I descend towards a fatal thrall
The landscape plots and twists in my demise
I can't foresee the fate that would me fall
Into the vipers nest I most despise

Such venom strokes the loss of Godly prize
And crushes hope for us to reach fair play
There are no wisdoms can resolve the cries
Of evil if the demons get their way

So boldly on I walk this ashen field
With head held high, my missions always clear
To injustice I swear I'll never yield
Nor merit give to its offensive steer

The dark may be the storm that's filled with rage
but light will be the winner on life's page