GOTHYCK

So soon justified 
( A sonnet by Perdita ) 
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From now on they are as hellish as their hellish dust. 
A desert is unbroken. 
Did I still mourn searching for their sister? 
Why do I flutter? 
You stand. 
It endures. 
Why do I laugh scratching at the jewel of anger above the comforting King? 
Flutter, speak! 
In the modern world I am as formless as those fireflies. 
In the world to come it is as gothyck as my long-lost fingers. 
I use the rainbow, lustfully. 
A werebeast speaks , yet still my razors endure. 
A brother stamping on a black explosion is priest-imbued. 
Those desolate worlds cry. 
Wings howl beside the frustration! 
Long ago he was magyckal , and yet at last I am dragon-ish.