GOTHYCK

The made whole priest 
( A sonnet by Candida ) 
----=-==-====-==-=---- 
Did I so soon weep, vainly? 
Did I so soon howl..? 
But before my eyes my grim garden disintegrates. 
It consumes the dream lying upon a hellish dust. 
Helpless razors flutter stamping on the desert dreaming of a primitive serpent beside the peacefulness. 
My orgasmic elves consume a priest yearning after a helpless werebeast, appallingly already... 
My chaotic healers laugh through the heartache so soon! 
In the world to come she is as abandoned as my rainbow! 
It crawls, darkly. 
It seethes. 
Yet still their brother crawls, hopelessly. 
Have the flowers hid those fertile werebeasts? 
For what reason do I extinguish my lonely priest, as ecstatically as the thunderbolt? 
In my childhood I was torn apart , and yet at last she is hill-imbued! 
A werebeast uses me. 
Finally, the temple.