GOTHYCK

My dragon flowing from a familiar sea 
( A sonnet by Gothchyk ) 
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It disintegrates. 
Their tornadoes arise silently lurking under the grief. 
An explosion towering above a deadly sky disintegrates, agonizingly. 
Has the wasteland called to my gothyck angels? 
Tumble stamping on the sand of loneliness, cry! 
Die stretching beneath their meadow, twirl hopelessly! 
I rage stamping on my dream. 
Why, why are tears priest-wounded? 
I know the familiar memory, lustfully. 
Have my reptiles resembled ravens? 
Speak, endure! 
Has the fool feasted on my primitive wounds? 
I mourn unseeingly, ecstatically. 
Their mirage seethes , and yet their wings cry. 
Did I once infest a deadly hill, thunderously? 
It hates a spasm yearning after a terrifying mountain, violently!