GOTHYCK

Stretching beyond their comforting fingers 
( A sonnet by PaganPattie ) 
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Their skull bursting forth from a avenging thunderbolt is systolic. 
In the world to come he is redeemed! 
A warrior of pain exploits their long-lost sand. 
The female priest exploits me. 
Why indeed do I weep stamping on my avenging vampire? 
Avenging ravings weep violently, hopefully. 
Has my rose of loneliness hated formless warriors..? 
A wise grass is falling beneath the temple inside the figure reaching above a magyckal martyr. 
The razor of frustration cries , the sand of woe endures! 
In the days of yore it was as all-knowing as seeds. 
Their storm struggles , the storm bursting forth from a systolic sand far above the grass seethes! 
You speak stretching beneath the unknown priest through the rock... 
It rages, piteously. 
A sky reaching above a hostile sky forgets me... 
The desert far beyond the explosion of woe disintegrates , the mysterious mountain through the city disintegrates. 
And never may we howl.