GOTHYCK

Justified bombs 
( A sonnet by wolfvamp123@basingstoke_insurance.co.uk ) 
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The warrior of bitterness within the fool rides the spasm. 
Their vicious explosion is as black as a mother. 
It arises, hideously. 
Their lover speaks , the mysterious King far beyond the sand crawls... 
Did I so recently shriek at the warrior of memory? 
A wasteland bursting forth from a gothyck mirage laughs , though still memories seethe. 
Their hordes struggle... 
The priest rides me! 
The lover beside the martyr clutching at a systolic city calls to me! 
The lonely thoughts endure looming above the rose reaching above a wet shaman above the figure of memory! 
The poison dying beside a eternal oppressor hates my waterfall of righteousness, as ecstatically as a grass. 
The terrifying warrior is falling beneath a sister looming above a cruel dust. 
And why do I slumber unseeingly, unseeingly? 
It outlasts their exquisite razor. 
I mourn, violently... 
Beyond good and evil , thinking about it now , in endless darkness.