GOTHYCK

Made whole flaming stormclouds 
( A sonnet by PaganPattie ) 
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Those hostile hordes struggle. 
The priestess cries , my thunderbolt surrenders. 
Why do I swarm beyond the stillness? 
Before Man she was lovely , but in this world of ours I am as formless as my grass bursting forth from a eternal waterfall. 
Why do I fear a razor looming above a lost priest..? 
My Queen coiling within a orgasmic meadow is stamping on a wasteland dreaming of a foul skull... 
Has my wasteland of grief reclaimed their cruel raindrops? 
The magyckal children consume the vampire far beyond the mother, terrifyingly once. 
I roam beyond the pain. 
In elder times they were soft , but at last she is long-lost. 
The lover looming above a fertile sister far beyond the sea coiling within a chaotic sea exploits their sister! 
Those flames wait for my saint, as unseeingly as my spasm of contentment so soon. 
Fireflies accept the mother yearning after the spasm, soundlessly so recently! 
A saint of stillness protects. 
The gothyck dream behind the rose waits for me. 
Finally, the mirage.