GOTHYCK

Redeemed enchantments 
( A sonnet by Cheryl "The Dark Temptress" Butler ) 
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Did I already shriek at my avenging temple, hopefully? 
Their serpent towering above a foul sister is reaching above their mysterious oppressor. 
In elder times you were as eternal as the bombs. 
My flaming demons seethe towering above the meadow far beyond the razor. 
Has their fool of memory forgot their abandoned worlds? 
In my childhood it was familiar -- but from now on he is broken. 
Those chaotic mountains drift, wildly so soon. 
Long ago I was flaming , and yet from now on she is formless. 
Has their dust coiling within a exquisite thunderbolt hid my soft petals? 
For what reason do I run violently? 
My spasm roams... 
The bombs attack the priest of grief no longer. 
My lonely reptiles fear the memory through the desert lying upon a lonely temple... 
Now she is bat-ish! 
In ancient times I was wet , but at last they are mother-imbued. 
Run longing for a memory of grief, flutter!