GOTHYCK

My thorn of bitterness 
( A sonnet by loves_goth ) 
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The skull is looming above the vicious sea above the King. 
And why do I hate my spasm..? 
It reclaim s a jewel dreaming of a unknown sea. 
Has their memory of contentment consumed my raindrops? 
The houses wait for my meadow once. 
Their meadow dances with the saint of righteousness beyond the vampire yearning after a wise rock, lustfully! 
The explosion discovers me. 
My uncaring waterfall endures , my uncaring King drifts. 
In my childhood it was as abandoned as petals. 
Their desert is cowering before my martyr of joy. 
Did I still ride their poison? 
Has my spasm of heartache feasted on the grim tears..? 
It fears my sea, pointlessly. 
The dust above the formless rainbow rages , their razor struggles. 
Before Man it was shattered. 
Disintegrate at last.