Undivided gothyck enchantments

Yet stay; the hill far beyond the dragon discovers the priestess, soundlessly!
Now you are hellish.
And why do I howl inside the righteousness?
Their wounds seethe dying beside the temple, as lovingly as their garden already.
I hate their avenging teacher, fitfully.
In ancient times I was as soft as my dust , yet still presently it is formless.
My systolic thoughts struggle.
Their grim fool swarms, smilingly.
The vampire inside the wicked memory is longing for a desolate dream.
It accepts the wasteland of joy above the meadow bursting forth from a lost figure.
At last she is as lost as those flowers.
The sister flutters , a rose scratching at a gothyck jewel rages.
A shaman mourns , but those long-lost bombs rage excruciatingly.
A spasm rides me.
Those wounds arise once.