GOTHYCK

Coiling within the shamans 
( A sonnet by Black Heart Of New Jersey ) 
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Their warrior crawls , though still stupid children howl. 
An avenging spasm is systolic. 
My dragon rages -- but those unknown saints endure terrifyingly... 
In the days of yore it was mountain-wounded. 
Have those gothyck fingers shrieked at their systolic wounds? 
You revere the unknown werebeast behind the desert! 
The lover stretching beneath a misunderstood skull far above the sky of grief surrenders , though still the feet laugh cowering before the wet brother stamping on the mountain flowing from a hostile storm! 
In ancient times I was flaming -- but from now on he is as sinuous as the vampire hiding behind the magyckal warrior! 
Their sister surrenders , but their thoughts howl towering above a priest of frustration. 
The sand protects , yet still my sinuous termites rage stamping on my dream scratching at a desolate victim. 
But somehow the brother cries, darkly! 
Look again, though -- a sister surrenders. 
The skull inside the serpent accepts me... 
It slumbers. 
You drift hiding behind the stillness! 
Beyond the borders of sanity , at the darkest hour , in the end.