Sonnet- Help me God

0 Lord, help me in my present crusade,
Against the tyrannies of injustice;
Everywhere, 'tis the Evil-cavalcade,
That threatens the weak framework of justice.

I shall not slumber until I succeed,
To wake up the hearts of ignorant poor;
In my efforts, may be, I must exceed,
To try all methods, and knock every door.

This lovely earth has but gone to Dogs;
The Righteous men bear the brunt of torture;
The Rich turn richer, eat worser than hogs;
For the downtrodden poor, where's the future?
Help me, O Lord, to wade across rough seas,
Let this World turn better or forthwith cease.

poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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