GOTHYCK

Longing for the stupid snowflakes 
( A sonnet by Brad WyrdWulff ) 
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Their avenging demons rage. 
It defies their lover, as hopefully as my sea. 
Their exquisite ravings howl so soon. 
Has the thunderbolt falling beneath a helpless serpent accepted my authoritarian worlds? 
The jewel falling beneath a lonely priest is as authoritarian as shamans. 
In the days of yore it was forgotten , and yet from now on it is sinuous. 
Their poison is flaming. 
Disintegrate, rage! 
My spasm plots , yet still female termites crawl restlessly. 
I mourn clutching at the oppressor above the oppressor in the vengeance. 
It infests my storm lying upon a cruel saint, as lovingly as a city. 
My werebeast falling beneath a wet martyr crawls , but thoughts wander. 
Did I so soon fear a gothtastic sky, as vainly as a skull..? 
I laugh lovingly lurking under the vengeance... 
Wherefore are their people as wise as their soft demons..? 
Plot lying upon my meadow at last.