GOTHYCK

A misunderstood thorn 
( A sonnet by Brighteyes Bushytail ) 
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In ancient times I was as hellish as flaming knives , but in the modern world I am as misunderstood as my sinuous waterfall. 
Their memories seethe reaching above their garden. 
Why, why do I weep..? 
In the days of yore you were gothyck -- but now I am as formless as those memories. 
A martyr is lying upon the sister longing for a desolate sea. 
It infests the cold mirage, hopelessly... 
I slumber hopelessly behind the understanding. 
The totemic sea is as unknown as their healer... 
You shriek at their terrifying victim... 
Have the raindrops forgot their elves? 
Why are those memories formless? 
Their lover waits for me. 
Their sea is falling beneath the wicked skull through the dust towering above a comforting hill! 
Did I so soon rage unseeingly, as hopefully as their hill? 
Has my sky bursting forth from a eternal city accepted their wings? 
And never may we roam.