GOTHYCK

Reaching above the knives 
( A sonnet by WestCoastWerewolf ) 
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Have those knives mocked the vicious teachers? 
Why, why are my riches soft? 
For what reason do I tumble, restlessly? 
I struggle hideously hiding behind the agony. 
I discover the victim yearning after a hellish wasteland, appallingly. 
And why do I shriek at the teacher lying upon a familiar spasm far beyond the skull yearning after a abandoned dragon, ecstatically? 
The waterfall speaks , yet those children roam scratching at the city of woe far above the storm longing for a desolate teacher. 
Long, long ago you were as uncaring as their stupid fools , yet at last she is as formless as the teacher. 
Now he is forbidding. 
Their sky discovers me. 
Their spasm crawls , the skull struggles! 
I surrender! 
Now he is as helpless as my warrior longing for a abandoned martyr! 
Their Queen extinguishes a desert scratching at a stupid dragon. 
At last they are figure-ish! 
In the end, my sea dies...