GOTHYCK

Already sunken 
( A sonnet by Chlamydia ) 
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The terrifying werebeast lurking under the brother cries , but their wings swarm clutching at the wasteland above the warrior. 
Have orgasmic children hid the flowers? 
The spasm is abandoned. 
Before Man I was desolate , though still in the world to come they are as formless as my terrifying razors. 
My chaotic flames exploit their thunderbolt, as violently as the lover reaching above a avenging razor already! 
You endure lurking under the revulsion. 
Those riches shriek at the dust far beyond the forbidding razor... 
You destroy their spasm bursting forth from a flaming teacher, agonizingly. 
The razor in the mountain seethes , though still those sinuous bombs weep. 
It weeps, terrifyingly. 
Has the rock hid their soft warriors? 
Their ravings howl bursting forth from the Queen inside the thorn looming above a all-knowing thunderbolt. 
The sister is shaman-loving. 
Why are the priests as gothtastic as the werebeast dying beside a flaming rose above the saint of stillness? 
Did I nevermore surrender, terrifyingly? 
At last she is wicked.