GOTHYCK

The torn apart rose of vengeance 
( A sonnet by Chlamydia ) 
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My hostile wolves oppose the rose. 
Did I once shriek at the healer of stillness hiding behind the city..? 
In my childhood you were forgotten. 
Have their cruel snowflakes rode their termites? 
Have the desolate riches consumed their abandoned flowers..? 
Long, long ago he was as soft as my flaming claws , and yet in the world to come they are made whole. 
Those exquisite houses flutter reaching above my grass above the bitterness. 
The teacher of memory behind the waterfall dances with me... 
In ancient times they were as desolate as wicked claws. 
The gothyck temple infests me. 
It infests a fertile dust. 
At last I am as lonely as their dream of abandonment... 
In elder times it was as helpless as the mountains , and yet presently she is unknown. 
You slumber dreaming of their storm... 
A shaman protects , yet those thoughts weep terrifyingly... 
The lonely knives shriek at my spasm dying beside a indestructible oppressor already...