Practice Poem?

A new Agent sits alone,
The starry night sky shimmering.
Cloudless, clear and full moon above;
Gazing upward, thoughts flood his mind.

One question clouding through his mind:
"Am I really help to make the world better?"
Looking down, a sigh, then a leap down from
Where he sat, treading ever forward.

Trekking over yonder, glancing about,
The thoughts still running through his mind;
Quietly, weapon gripped in hand, being cautious,
Kept an eye out for enemy folk.

Then, a sudden splotch of dark fuchsia ink;
"Shit!", He exclaimed, firing back.
Soon, however, the prize collected,
He'd stood victorious, proudly.