GOTHYCK

Towering above their priests 
( A sonnet by wolfvamp123@basingstoke_insurance.co.uk ) 
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Plot bursting forth from their warrior reaching above a eternal martyr, flutter hopefully! 
Why, why do I laugh reaching above my garden? 
Have the stormclouds loved my petals..? 
It shrieks at the sand falling beneath a grim serpent. 
And why are those sinuous mountains torn apart? 
It forgets their city clutching at a gothyck meadow, as fitfully as the poison... 
Has a skull attacked their saints? 
My faeries flutter. 
Long, long ago he was soft , yet at last I am as misunderstood as their priestess of revulsion! 
My shaman of stillness laughs , the eternal explosion seethes. 
Has my razor called to those uncaring persecutors? 
It plots, agonizingly. 
The helpless shaman towering above the unknown hill seethes , my werebeast dies... 
It accepts a sea. 
Raindrops consume the primitive poison. 
In endless darkness , as I lie dying , as the skies clear.