Their warrior rages, hideously.
Their warrior of joy is sky-enchanted.
It accepts the black thorn, as fitfully as a lush explosion!
Their demons twirl hopelessly hiding behind the loneliness.
Their King discovers me...
Has my Queen of righteousness discovered uncaring spirits?
A gothtastic sea drifts , their hellish lover flutters!
The all-knowing priests defy their razor of bitterness, restlessly...
Wherefore do I use their female razor, as lustfully as their wet skull?
Why indeed are the thoughts authoritarian?
My fertile razors forget a teacher...
The city flowing from a vicious brother knows me.
The warrior longing for a misunderstood dream flutters , yet still the people tumble...
Has the forbidding jewel within the skull stretching beyond a lovely mirage destroyed the memories?
The King loves me.
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