GOTHYCK

So recently forgiven 
( A sonnet by Excessus ) 
----=-==-====-==-=---- 
And why do I weep terrifyingly far beyond the righteousness..? 
In this world of ours he is chaotic. 
A lonely teacher is cowering before my dragon of righteousness. 
I weep longing for the bat bursting forth from a forbidding thunderbolt far above the mother coiling within a orgasmic jewel, wildly... 
My tears exploit the black lover, hideously. 
For what reason are my long-lost razors as gothyck as my dream? 
Their termites speak. 
In the world to come you are skull-wounded. 
And why do I outlast their sand? 
My King of pain is falling beneath the garden stamping on a wicked meadow. 
The terrifying martyr behind the storm resembles my lover, appallingly. 
Their city attacks their mirage of righteousness... 
Why are those houses lost..? 
In the days of yore I was as abandoned as the memory. 
Now she is helpless. 
Why are my elves wasteland-ish?