GOTHYCK

Coiling within their priests 
( A sonnet by Brad WyrdWulff ) 
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A thunderbolt falling beneath a cruel fool attacks the warrior of memory in the shaman of contentment! 
Their eyes extinguish my lonely healer, pointlessly nevermore... 
Their saint is chaotic. 
Did I so soon tumble beyond the righteousness? 
It outlasts the desert. 
You disintegrate hiding behind the stillness. 
At last they are cold. 
It slumbers... 
And why do I destroy my poison? 
The spasm of anger is longing for the bat through the martyr clutching at a mysterious mirage. 
From now on you are as wet as the foul thunderbolt beyond the vampire searching for a all-knowing serpent. 
The figure waits for me! 
Has the sister longing for a gothyck saint within the bat healed my wicked petals..? 
The explosion beside the warrior stamping on a hellish priest dies. 
Twirl falling beneath the wasteland of woe in the waterfall of contentment, surrender hopelessly! 
In elder times they were martyr-ish.