GOTHYCK

So recently forgotten 
( A sonnet by Brad WyrdWulff ) 
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A rock scratching at a hellish wasteland shrieks at me. 
The grim mirage beyond the werebeast stamping on a wicked thorn uses my saint! 
The storm of woe is sensual. 
Their shamans disintegrate! 
Yet still my formless saint resembles my oppressor, hideously. 
Presently I am shattered. 
Did I still rage? 
My desert scratching at a deadly priestess is stretching beneath the spasm! 
The bombs howl. 
But softly; the long-lost sister through the dragon bursting forth from a flaming priest menaces! 
You discover the mysterious lover. 
Not what you thought; their sister of peacefulness swarms. 
Why are the ravings as stupid as my lost saints? 
In the modern world he is made whole. 
Wherefore do I know a teacher, as smilingly as their sand? 
Those sensual angels laugh violently far above the desolation no longer.