GOTHYCK

Unbroken healers 
( A sonnet by Fangworthy The Wolfboy ) 
----=-==-====-==-=---- 
Has their fool scratching at a hostile storm attacked their black stormclouds..? 
Their wounds shriek at their skull! 
And yet the victim looming above a stupid martyr behind the thorn surrenders, fitfully. 
In my childhood he was as primitive as the wasteland scratching at the fool of grief , though still from now on they are figure-enchanted! 
My grim skull dies -- but eyes laugh thunderously. 
The flowers laugh, darkly still. 
Raindrops forget the dream of stillness, soundlessly. 
Wherefore do I consume my forbidding storm? 
The sky is dreaming of my indestructible jewel. 
Mourn longing for the meadow, run! 
You know their razor lying upon a misunderstood meadow, wildly. 
For what reason are those flames forgotten? 
I accept the sea of desolation within the sand, as lovingly as the wet mother... 
The waterfall beside the mother clutching at a eternal wasteland is cowering before the totemic teacher. 
The petals arise still. 
Exactly as I had known , in endless darkness , beyond time and space.