No Evil Bows (Heroic Sonnet)

I am the gray, damp, muted mist which slides Between the large, carved, marble marker stones; Alone they sit like weighted, gargoyle brides Above the dried-white, brittle, lambent bones, Now dead and silenced for iniquities. I glide inside the dance of death each night As wasted graves belch loud obscenities To rage against the blaze of righteous light. I am but smoke within a wicked wind But stand as witness to this brutal truth: The black of death ends not the pain of sin For evil preys on pulsing blood of youth And once possessed these young ones will be made A matrix of malevolence 'till death; Though even then no evil bows to fade Benignly, with death's rattled rales of breath. Do not take lightly words that I now speak; Great evil thrives when human will is weak.