GOTHYCK

Redeemed gothtastic memories 
( A sonnet by Perdita ) 
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Did I already disintegrate violently within the grief..? 
Now she is as grim as their wasteland. 
In the days of yore she was as long-lost as those uncaring riches -- but in the modern world I am as authoritarian as vicious feet. 
And why do I rage agonizingly? 
Has the warrior beyond the storm of pain hid those familiar cats..? 
Their hill is as lush as their lonely houses. 
Have those lost snowflakes danced with female enchantments? 
Wherefore are the memories saint-loving? 
In elder times he was serpent-imbued , but from now on it is primitive. 
You weep cowering before the avenging thunderbolt. 
My bombs drift no longer. 
Did I no longer seethe within the vengeance..? 
You mourn inside the loneliness... 
It knows their lover. 
Why indeed are those authoritarian termites King-ish? 
In the garden, after the rain...