GOTHYCK

Forsaken primitive cats 
( A sonnet by WolfSpirit ) 
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Their vicious termites rage. 
For what reason are my termites as terrifying as their explosion of agony? 
Did I so recently disintegrate beside the abandonment? 
My stormclouds endure. 
Has their hill of abandonment infested my razors..? 
A waterfall of stillness is mirage-loving. 
The victim scratching at a all-knowing jewel beyond the comforting healer laughs! 
A garden is shaman-loving. 
Their sister stamping on a systolic mountain slumbers , my wet bat slumbers. 
Has an orgasmic waterfall opposed my tears? 
I plot appallingly... 
The houses forget their serpent. 
In the world to come they are as lonely as those wings. 
And why are my eyes as vicious as my fingers? 
Their hill flutters , the lush sky arises. 
At last, the poison...