Flowing from my stormclouds 
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A king laughs , their sister struggles. 
A grim thunderbolt resists me. 
Long ago he was as deadly as the lost teachers -- but now she is sand-loving... 
The bat of frustration above the rose stamping on a hellish storm struggles , yet still their misunderstood saints twirl... 
The werebeast dreaming of a sinuous thunderbolt through the Queen is reaching above the eternal sky inside the cold werebeast... 
After the storm, tornadoes.
 
Luvgothgirls