Scratches From The Night

I wake up with scratches from the night With fear in my eyes at this terrible sight Though god may his finger on my soul Demons and spirits seek to destroy me whole For I am no longer conflicted with morals Nor am I lazy, resting on my laurels I spread all that is good, for no prize or validation I simply do what is right, without expectation They seek to destroy what is pure To defile me like the rest, so that I may also endure A life led by sin, devoid of conscience or second-thought To spread misery everywhere without an afterthought