GOTHYCK

Dreaming of the avenging werebeasts 
( A sonnet by luvgothgirls ) 
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Not what you thought; the teacher endures, hopelessly. 
And yet their mother of heartache shrieks at the priest dying beside the chaotic storm. 
A lover uses me... 
Why are trees as vicious as wounds? 
I weep violently. 
In the days of yore he was lover-ish... 
In ancient times I was systolic , though still in the modern world it is misunderstood! 
Before Man I was as abandoned as the desolate fool above the dream. 
Their dream is lying upon my memory. 
It heals a systolic wasteland. 
In the world to come she is meadow-wounded. 
The Queen of contentment hiding behind the meadow reaching above a long-lost razor extinguishes me. 
The helpless waterfall within the sea looming above a all-knowing martyr is figure-envenomed! 
It extinguishes my explosion of loneliness, as fitfully as their deadly razor. 
In ancient times you were unforgiven! 
In the end, my garden slumbers.