GOTHYCK

Forgotten petals 
( A sonnet by wanderer@flour.nephilim.net ) 
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Did I so soon weep violently..? 
In this world of ours you are unforgiven. 
For what reason do I seethe flowing from a storm, as fitfully as the lost sea? 
But at the speed of a memory, a grass of vengeance endures. 
And why do I oppose their rainbow reaching above a lonely storm? 
My fools mourn unseeingly. 
Their flowers slumber yearning after the martyr beyond the dust. 
Look again, though -- their brother surrenders. 
The wounds mourn through the revulsion still. 
The explosion far beyond the razor attacks my thunderbolt, terrifyingly. 
Long, long ago I was as black as the exquisite spasm hiding behind the storm. 
Wherefore do I stand violently? 
Has the dust waited for their flowers? 
It exploits their mirage of alienation. 
Have my female hordes mocked persecutors? 
At the darkest hour , as I lie dying , just as I had thought.