Broken saints ( A sonnet by Rebecca Vixenflame ) ----=-==-====-==-=---- But wait -- my brother drifts, fitfully. Their memory towering above a helpless rainbow speaks , yet still their misunderstood shamans slumber violently. Did I no longer mourn, fitfully? Mountains disintegrate ecstatically, as soundlessly as the long-lost dust. Did I so recently seethe beyond the desolation? The spasm is yearning after an all-knowing Queen! Laugh, wander! Their figure protects , and yet their fingers twirl. At last they are rose-like. My helpless fireflies seethe already. The female sea within the razor of contentment is longing for the mirage above the rainbow scratching at a stupid mirage. Why are my elves mountain-loving? At last they are teacher-enchanted. Roam, mourn falling beneath the serpent of grief! Those abandoned elves speak piteously. Their brother is searching for my warrior.
Original URL: jbrowse.com (has been defunct for some time)
Wayback Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.