Sonnet: Rescue The Righteous Of Hearts, O God!

Alone, ’lone in a sea vast of turmoil,
Where dishonesty has gained upper hand,
For what purpose, the righteous sweat and toil?
Mean-minded men just tend to rule the land.

There is no air of justice anyway;
There is no soul to ever encourage;
Just boredom but prevails by night and day;
Both vanished have the fear of God and age!

And men follow no norms of existence;
The wicked rule over the good of hearts;
Obedience to bosses- a mere pretence;
Good things are much delayed or done in parts.

Frustration fills the honest-most of hearts;
Inhumanly seem men, in fits and starts.