Choosing Compassion Instead of being Right

Suddenly being alone,
As if facing the arrows and bows that shoots by day.
Tending to its confusion.
Anguish is mine to mend,
silent tears, commotion mounting.
Indignant remarks hurl across as the way to guide.
Stoic walls that look precarious.
Looking ahead, I see
Only judgment and a predicament that seals my fate.