Great Endeavor (Sonnet)

The etiquette of men has come quite far, Since the days of old before there were cars. There are still faults left, with which we must deal, For only to God must mankind appeal. There’s a story I’ll share (I promise not bad), Of a young boy traveling, scared and sad. He was born in the dark; full of despair, He ran from the light, wherever it flared. Then one day he found a path in the woods, And followed it in search for earthly goods. The forest was dark, no place for a boy, Lurking with creatures that killed men for joy. The wind was still, yet the forest whispered, As he passed a corpse…badly dismembered. Then in the dark, where the lad could not see, Something brushed by him, it was rough as a tree. The human was frightened, lost and tired, He tried to turn back, but soon retired. In the morn’ when he woke, something was there, A skeleton was floating in mid-air. It spoke, “I am Death, what business have you? These woods are my own, you shall not pass through.” The boy said, “I’m Mann, please help me to leave-” To which Death said, “A new future, I’ll weave.” So Mann followed Death deep into the woods, Where soon he realized Death’s word wasn’t good. Mann suddenly stopped, and stood bravely tall, When Death pulled his scythe prepared for a brawl. Mann fell to his knees and said, “Death, why me?” Death then said, “Stupid boy, you cannot see! You were a guardian, this all was yours; You betrayed your king, so he shut the doors. So long in darkness you traveled alone, Yet so much grace and mercy He has shown! Last night you were blind, the forest was dark, But the morning sun rose, He left his mark. Yet still you ignored and followed me here, This place of destiny. Shed Your last Tear! The boy said, “The brightness, it was freedom? Alas, the trail, it leads to a kingdom!” Death lowered his scythe and offered a truce, Not to Mann, but a king (just introduced). The king took the truce and walked to the path, And there he waited while Mann did the math. Just then, Death mentioned this one final thing, “Boy! Tread the path! Or at your soul Ill fling A thousand bad terrors, you have my word!” The king yelled, “Flee beast, you have now been heard!” The light Mann saw, was brighter than the sun, With war ahead, this battle had been won.