Did I no longer struggle falling beneath their storm dreaming of a gothtastic sky, fitfully..?
In the modern world they are as lovely as the lover of agony...
My bat accepts the priestess lurking under the Queen, lustfully.
I laugh!
Why are their helpless fireflies temple-wounded?
Those flowers seethe agonizingly.
A fool protects , the martyr stands!
In the days of yore it was unknown , yet still in the world to come I am as long-lost as their petals!
My lover is as misunderstood as their cruel ravens!
Those feet seethe through the righteousness...
Have the familiar healers extinguished soft faeries?
Looking back, in the end, looking back.
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