Sonnet

It has started to rain in this bright world,

through the eyes of saints who watch their adepts.

They rain and rain without complaint or word,

folks own a storm of pain and lack affect.

It has began the storm of beastly hordes,

where lack of values seem part of a sect.

This group that elaborates ill rewards,

makes others follow and me to eject.

Some devils just want to see the world burn,

for folks are like a forrest of dry leaves.

It will light completely before you spurn,

be prepared for when they bring the receipts.

You ought to hurry up and chose your side,

I warn you to leave evilness aside.