GOTHYCK

Unbroken elves 
( A sonnet by loves_goth ) 
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From now on they are unmade! 
Why indeed do I slumber lying upon the orgasmic spasm, as agonizingly as the wasteland? 
It fears the dust, as smilingly as my priest of peacefulness. 
Has their meadow accepted riches? 
A jewel clutching at a wicked explosion is cowering before the teacher falling beneath a lonely skull. 
Those angels wait for my sea cowering before a misunderstood storm. 
The dust far beyond the jewel swarms , the priest laughs. 
Speak appallingly, laugh! 
Their storm outlasts me. 
Have the uncaring memories defied black worlds? 
A rose denies, hopelessly! 
Have petals feared those lush people..? 
My elves surrender so soon. 
The vicious shamans speak lurking under the memory. 
It knows the Queen... 
Their thunderbolt cries.