( A sonnet by luvgothgirls )
My desert of memory protects , yet still their unknown saints twirl.
Their vampire speaks , yet their misunderstood priests arise!
My mountains arise, restlessly already.
Long, long ago it was gothyck , yet still presently I am forgiven.
Why do I endure, appallingly?
Have the wounds feared authoritarian wounds..?
Have the memories resembled fools?
A grass of joy surrenders, agonizingly!
You rage, agonizingly...
I howl terrifyingly, as agonizingly as the stupid storm.
Shamans seethe lying upon a garden, smilingly.
The brother hiding behind the spasm is bursting forth from the terrifying thunderbolt.
The martyr of memory beyond the desolate mirage slumbers...
And why do I flutter..?
My rainbow is saint-ish.
The poison far above the sea of righteousness is stretching beyond my skull...
for the original code. The online version available there has been throwing
a 500 for some time now, hence this page.