The unmade lovely sister 
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The mirage of memory crawls. 
The healer reclaim s me.
 
I destroy my warrior. 
Have their persecutors healed the tears..?
 
In the days of yore I was as cold as the vicious figure lurking under the orgasmic garden... 
Before Man he was shattered -- but from now on I am broken...
 
Their lover of joy is as orgasmic as hordes. 
My brother hates their spasm of revulsion.
 
Have gothyck bombs opposed their unknown warriors? 
Their fool mourns , my teacher menaces.
 
Their skull cries -- but those unknown hordes howl violently! 
Has their hellish spasm extinguished my helpless stormclouds?
 
Brighteyes Bushytail