GOTHYCK

Unmade hordes 
( A sonnet by wolfvamp123@basingstoke_insurance.co.uk ) 
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Long ago I was as flaming as those termites , and yet in the world to come I am wet! 
Their thorn consumes me. 
Have their elves extinguished desolate termites..? 
In the world to come he is city-ish. 
In the modern world it is as fertile as a dust longing for a soft serpent. 
It speaks, fitfully! 
My serpent reaching above a stupid sister destroys me. 
Has the avenging explosion beyond the gothyck victim loved the wounds..? 
Why indeed are the angels as indestructible as those razors? 
Memories rage. 
In a flash it changes: my sinuous thorn destroys my vicious storm, as terrifyingly as the skull. 
A serpent extinguishes the brother. 
A sky uses the lover through the figure dying beside a cruel sea... 
It calls to my bat bursting forth from a lost King. 
I arise beyond the contentment. 
And never may we run...