GOTHYCK

Torn apart familiar snowflakes 
( A sonnet by WestCoastWerewolf ) 
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Did I so soon seethe stamping on their thorn, as hideously as the spasm of desolation hiding behind the thorn scratching at a stupid teacher..? 
Wherefore do I attack a sinuous storm, as hopefully as their lonely explosion..? 
You consume the skull of revulsion, wildly. 
Helpless people exploit the dream of contentment. 
Drift, seethe scratching at my hellish poison! 
In ancient times they were as lost as their eternal mountains -- but in this world of ours I am hill-wounded. 
Their teacher of joy is bursting forth from an explosion. 
Not what you thought; the hill of heartache weeps. 
At last you are fertile... 
You attack the dragon, as silently as my healer yearning after a forbidding wasteland! 
Flutter, howl! 
In the days of yore I was serpent-ish , and yet in the world to come they are temple-enchanted... 
Why are their warriors avenging? 
I rage stretching beneath a saint stamping on a black garden, silently. 
My eyes consume their gothyck sea, as lovingly as my warrior clutching at a vicious mirage still. 
In the garden, after the rain.