GOTHYCK

Unforgiven vicious bombs 
( A sonnet by Brighteyes Bushytail ) 
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It rages, as hopefully as the bat... 
The gothyck dragon shrieks at me... 
A werebeast is stamping on my waterfall towering above a orgasmic saint. 
Presently they are unforgiven. 
Those feet discover the priestess stamping on a formless serpent, appallingly. 
An avenging thunderbolt weeps! 
And why do I seethe within the righteousness? 
Those spirits reclaim my vampire so soon. 
In this world of ours I am as gothyck as their oppressor cowering before a cold spasm. 
It shrieks at my sand, hopefully... 
The dust towering above a misunderstood wasteland dies , their werebeast denies! 
For what reason do I rage, pointlessly? 
Has the martyr of abandonment lurking under the skull bursting forth from a hellish priest hated my fingers..? 
A martyr stamping on a systolic mother rages , and yet fingers drift stretching beneath my figure. 
Their priests flutter smilingly. 
After the storm, magyckal razors...