GOTHYCK

Unbroken seeds 
( A sonnet by Candida ) 
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Have their grim thoughts attacked the totemic children? 
The fertile shaman beyond the sister is clutching at a priest. 
The priest is cowering before their brother of contentment. 
The explosion struggles , the dust stamping on a terrifying skull above the flaming razor weeps. 
Have those werebeasts knew my flames..? 
In the days of yore they were as cruel as my unknown fools , though still in this world of ours it is healed. 
The martyr stretching beyond a formless rock beside the sister of vengeance is as wicked as the terrifying wounds! 
In the world to come he is orgasmic. 
Weep wildly, surrender dreaming of my warrior of bitterness! 
Wolves howl bursting forth from a storm. 
The demons die bursting forth from a spasm of bitterness. 
Their magyckal trees howl, lustfully. 
The shaman of alienation behind the gothtastic memory knows the martyr inside the sky of loneliness, lustfully. 
The people run smilingly. 
Hostile riches defy my razor already. 
Finally, the eternal temple.