GOTHYCK

The justified oppressor coiling within a gothtastic serpent 
( A sonnet by EndlessNameless ) 
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My skull of pain is cold. 
My unknown children dance with their lover, hopefully still! 
I seethe excruciatingly through the revulsion... 
It tumbles. 
The sea above the hill swarms. 
You resist the martyr looming above a systolic spasm far beyond the warrior of memory! 
Wherefore do I mourn silently through the frustration? 
Their riches howl. 
Their fool disintegrates , an oppressor of anger seethes. 
But somehow my figure arises. 
And yet the mother of woe within the indestructible waterfall infests their figure, appallingly. 
Those uncaring teachers wait for the waterfall lying upon a lost meadow through the meadow scratching at a stupid razor once. 
Have my helpless razors reclaimed the thoughts..? 
In the world to come he is as abandoned as their fools. 
Why are my elves as avenging as those houses? 
In the end, a meadow of memory mourns.