Glimmers

The Epitomal Goth Poem

I.

I am...

Depressed.

I, the dregs of humanity, wallow in disgust for foolish mortals. 

I sneer at their superior looks, and spit in their condescending eyes.  How can they dare to judge me?  None can judge me so harshly as I!

I depress them, as I am depressed.

In sleeve of lace and velvet, darkening as the raven's wing, I fly across a moonless sky.  I dance upon the stars, one by one to be extinguished by the cruel sun.

I am the stalker of the night, with glorious skin of white shielded from the coming dawn.

I am the dark soul of youth, dreading the fast-approaching end of Time.

I am a black-winged butterfly, crushed beneath the conformist heel of corperation.

I am so... f-ing... depressed...!