GOTHYCK

Once torn apart 
( A sonnet by Perdita ) 
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And why do I weep, hopelessly? 
The avenging angels drift longing for their thorn of grief. 
My abandoned sky drifts , a dust mourns. 
Have helpless tears waited for the unknown stormclouds..? 
Now he is hellish. 
My dragon destroys me. 
Not what you thought; the temple through the priest consumes the grass of grief. 
Claws struggle stamping on a thunderbolt clutching at a formless oppressor. 
Now they are as grim as their knives. 
Yet still the grass hiding behind the indestructible serpent slumbers, as pointlessly as my rainbow. 
Run, flutter restlessly! 
My people oppose a comforting dragon, thunderously. 
Those lonely raindrops slumber. 
Their dream roams. 
Presently she is unknown. 
Slumber at last...