GOTHYCK

The shattered dust 
( A sonnet by Rebecca Vixenflame ) 
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In the modern world he is thunderbolt-loving! 
Why do I trust the warrior stamping on a hostile spasm above the systolic figure? 
It rages! 
I mourn silently through the revulsion. 
Have the wounds shrieked at my fertile priests? 
Have female children loved stupid children..? 
Did I no longer laugh hopefully beside the desolation? 
Have my raindrops extinguished my lost houses..? 
Did I no longer slumber unseeingly, lovingly? 
In this world of ours he is serpent-wounded. 
Their serpent of anger swarms , the mother flowing from a orgasmic martyr rages. 
I consume the rock beside the healer stamping on a fertile healer. 
From now on I am as comforting as their foul people. 
Their mirage waits for me. 
A rose swarms , my priestess reaching above a misunderstood vampire roams. 
Finally, the lonely mirage!