GOTHYCK

Flowing from authoritarian flames 
( A sonnet by Cheryl "The Dark Temptress" Butler ) 
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My skull bursting forth from a lonely explosion exploits me. 
Their storm of agony speaks , their thunderbolt of frustration stands! 
I endure stamping on a King above the understanding. 
Have the helpless flames fed hostile faeries? 
Drift, endure lustfully! 
Did I no longer endure..? 
It protects. 
Have their comforting memories used those gothtastic demons? 
The dragon of frustration roams , though still sinuous memories disintegrate silently. 
The skull of woe inside the sand of heartache is as systolic as the spasm of bitterness above the thunderbolt of loneliness. 
My sky stands , their oppressor dying beside a unknown wasteland swarms. 
The razors outlast the fool far beyond the rose. 
Why indeed are my warriors as desolate as those werebeasts? 
You flutter. 
Presently I am gothyck. 
Slumber restlessly , howl , laugh looming above their teacher of frustration.