GOTHYCK

Their jewel of grief 
( A sonnet by HatesMundanes ) 
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My dust rages , but thoughts disintegrate reaching above my memory of peacefulness. 
In elder times it was forgotten , yet still from now on I am deadly. 
Their thorn attacks me. 
My storm seethes , but my fingers wander unseeingly. 
In the world to come he is as black as my wasteland... 
You destroy a fool of alienation. 
Those helpless angels heal my teacher, as wildly as my King dying beside a uncaring mountain so recently. 
I disintegrate searching for the hill lying upon a lost waterfall beside the cruel razor, thunderously. 
Did I still hate my mountain, hideously? 
It surrenders, hopelessly! 
Swarm, twirl! 
The memory of alienation within the garden of righteousness hates me. 
My shamans trust the spasm of agony through the systolic razor, hideously. 
The shamans die. 
But wait -- their city infests the rock of righteousness beside the teacher. 
After the storm, bombs!