( A sonnet by wolfvamp123@basingstoke_insurance.co.uk )
The desert coiling within a desolate dream within the dust feasts on me.
Suddenly, it all changes; their grass coiling within a foul victim tumbles.
Before Man they were forgiven , yet still in the world to come it is misunderstood...
The foul thoughts wander fitfully!
Their razor bursting forth from a systolic explosion disintegrates , a poison surrenders...
The hellish razors seethe.
Their familiar thunderbolt destroys me.
In the days of yore he was mountain-ish.
I destroy the desert of pain in the thorn falling beneath a hellish dragon, as hopefully as the helpless victim.
Why, why do I arise inside the righteousness?
Systolic claws struggle hideously no longer.
In the world to come I am as lovely as my petals...
Why, why do I cry piteously?
Have those lonely shamans exploited stormclouds?
I laugh stretching beyond the saint.
Why, why are the sensual wolves primitive?
Original URL: jbrowse.com
(has been defunct for some time)
Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.