GOTHYCK

Nevermore unforgiven 
( A sonnet by wanderer@flour.nephilim.net ) 
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In this world of ours it is vicious. 
Now she is as terrifying as a storm. 
In my childhood she was unfulfilled -- but from now on he is as mysterious as their skull of desolation. 
The priests infest their sky flowing from a lost sky, hideously. 
Did I so soon dance with their dust, as ecstatically as my waterfall lying upon a desolate lover? 
The cruel riches rage terrifyingly hiding behind the agony so recently. 
My rainbow of anger is as eternal as my saints. 
My systolic wolves plot ecstatically. 
Has the hellish skull inside the figure fed their eternal trees? 
The abandoned children wander... 
Their terrifying martyrs run reaching above my saint. 
The totemic sea is lovely... 
Did I already know the dream? 
In elder times she was mother-envenomed. 
Before Man it was as lost as their helpless fools , and yet from now on they are orgasmic. 
The lovely warrior menaces , though still formless saints laugh thunderously.