(In afterthought, my thought seemed well to fit.)

Let's boldly go where none have gone before
Let's seize the day and take no pri-son-ers
Great struggle makes this battle worth the more
We'll fight the fight in full-blown clichéd verse

And sweep the field of sceptics and faint-hearts
For those who dare to sabotage our quest
We shall reserve the keenest of our darts
With poisoned tip to quell such vile unrest

So wage we our campaign for well-spun lines
Our weapons primed with language, form and wit
The straitness of our measure shows the signs
Resolved we weave a fitting end to it

If I count right, the final couplet's here
To doubters - we have writ what we hold dear

Thank you, Raak, for believing - that was fun :-)

OK - fancy poetry's done - time for a chat?

[Chalky] Thank you for the dance, fun indeed!

But that last line, it has nine words!

(The last line of the sonnet, that is.)

[Quendalon] God is perfect, but we are not.

On the other hand, "we've enscribed" would fit.

[Raak] Perfect. I rushed and spoiled it. Sorry :-(