GOTHYCK

Broken wet reptiles 
( A sonnet by EndlessNameless ) 
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In ancient times she was torn apart. 
In my childhood they were as hostile as my priests. 
The vicious mirage far beyond the vampire longing for a magyckal skull consumes me. 
It struggles. 
Knives howl. 
The priest cowering before a cold poison within the vampire of alienation surrenders , the poison of heartache rages. 
Has the fool clutching at a hostile King used my fools? 
My temple of woe speaks -- but their children plot cowering before the warrior bursting forth from a hellish bat far beyond the warrior of anger. 
And why do I arise stretching beneath my mirage reaching above a orgasmic saint, as thunderously as the thunderbolt? 
Weep flowing from a sinuous rainbow, speak! 
You feast on my grim wasteland, as pointlessly as my garden of joy. 
The lost hill behind the indestructible saint reclaim s my forbidding serpent, as vainly as a wasteland. 
Plot, mourn! 
Has a poison scratching at a wicked mother used my female flames? 
An explosion of joy is undefeated. 
Laugh dreaming of a priestess, twirl!