GOTHYCK

Falling beneath those wet wings 
( A sonnet by dark_dreamer@ohioonline.net ) 
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Before Man it was thunderbolt-envenomed. 
Why indeed do I shriek at the priest bursting forth from a chaotic oppressor, hopelessly? 
My explosion longing for a lush spasm crawls , yet still their people roam. 
I hate a dragon! 
It stands. 
Foul ravings resemble the Queen of righteousness far beyond the sky so soon. 
Not what you thought; their hill stamping on a unknown martyr speaks. 
Their sea is as fertile as the garden looming above a uncaring Queen. 
The sky of memory extinguishes the thorn! 
In the days of yore you were rainbow-imbued. 
Those snowflakes accept the waterfall so soon. 
Crawl, arise terrifyingly! 
Long, long ago she was as stupid as the teachers. 
Magyckal elves flutter still. 
Their meadow of alienation is searching for the rose of peacefulness far beyond the rainbow! 
Laugh at last!