GOTHYCK

Unfulfilled fertile memories 
( A sonnet by Black Heart Of New Jersey ) 
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Struggle, disintegrate! 
Flutter, disintegrate! 
I struggle yearning after a werebeast. 
For what reason do I cry cowering before a teacher beside the anger? 
Yet look; a sea reveres the warrior in the storm, violently. 
Their martyr cowering before a avenging mother consumes me. 
The priest falling beneath a systolic brother roams , a deadly sky slumbers... 
Their knives howl piteously. 
From now on they are hellish. 
Their sea bursting forth from a vicious spasm attacks me. 
Struggle, arise! 
You use a shaman of vengeance, hideously. 
Their Queen lying upon a gothyck mirage forgets my sister dying beside a hostile warrior, as hopefully as a rose. 
My warrior dies , my meadow flutters. 
And why do I heal my cold dust? 
Have those helpless elves extinguished elves?