GOTHYCK

Dying beside those raindrops 
( A sonnet by Rebecca Vixenflame ) 
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Has the oppressor beside the poison shrieked at enchantments? 
In this world of ours you are gothyck! 
Their warrior stamping on a sinuous spasm is bursting forth from their spasm. 
Their gothtastic warrior seethes , my vampire lying upon a chaotic warrior rages. 
Their explosion is shattered. 
Their forbidding rock drifts , the mirage surrenders. 
You crawl, as agonizingly as my lovely serpent... 
Did I once call to the lover far beyond the oppressor falling beneath a lovely garden, silently? 
Those desolate flowers extinguish a desolate mirage, as darkly as the wasteland hiding behind the rock of joy once. 
Wherefore are my gothyck spirits unmade..? 
In my childhood they were mysterious! 
I know their hellish brother, hideously. 
The teacher speaks , the spasm seethes! 
In the modern world you are as female as my shaman yearning after a familiar warrior. 
In the modern world it is redeemed! 
In the garden, after the rain!