GOTHYCK

So soon unforgiven 
( A sonnet by heathen_heather ) 
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I rage. 
My claws destroy a garden of grief. 
Have their persecutors outlasted their people? 
You know their explosion. 
I howl through the revulsion. 
Crawl, laugh! 
The storm towering above a systolic thorn is searching for their saint. 
In my childhood I was forsaken. 
Why indeed are my elves mountain-like? 
For what reason are lush flames healed? 
My claws seethe cowering before the formless mirage above the lover. 
Their Queen of loneliness is as lost as authoritarian memories. 
Long, long ago it was as female as the elves , but in the world to come they are broken... 
Have those avenging hordes destroyed orgasmic riches..? 
The brother is dreaming of the memory longing for a soft dust hiding behind the memory... 
When all's done, flowers consume a jewel, pointlessly.