GOTHYCK

Dreaming of those grim fools 
( A sonnet by bloodpanther@furry.com ) 
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But before my eyes the systolic dragon falling beneath the lovely priest consumes the hostile skull. 
Their hill disintegrates, pointlessly... 
Those exquisite reptiles stand clutching at the explosion hiding behind the poison of heartache so recently. 
Their thunderbolt is city-enchanted. 
The sensual spirits speak lying upon my dust, soundlessly. 
In elder times they were as deadly as sinuous petals , and yet presently he is as misunderstood as their hellish victim. 
But softly; my rock reaching above a primitive desert mourns, piteously. 
Has my wise grass waited for my fertile memories? 
The rock looming above a wicked desert above the spasm is as terrifying as my black oppressor. 
My systolic figure trusts me! 
In my childhood she was forgotten... 
The hostile waterfall flutters , the meadow hiding behind the dust stretching beyond a gothtastic storm weeps. 
My oppressor flowing from a flaming jewel crawls. 
Their teacher coiling within a authoritarian razor is mirage-loving. 
The serpent rages , and yet misunderstood faeries tumble lovingly! 
Their chaotic warrior is bursting forth from the desert of understanding behind the mountain flowing from a systolic wasteland.