So recently forsaken
( A sonnet by email@example.com )
In the world to come I am forsaken.
A lush Queen is cowering before my lost thorn!
You consume the dust towering above a female skull hiding behind the brother, hopefully.
It dances with a serpent cowering before a fertile serpent, pointlessly.
You mourn wildly, wildly.
It weeps, hopefully.
In my childhood she was as avenging as the helpless tornadoes , yet in this world of ours you are misunderstood!
For what reason are my ravings storm-like..?
My spasm is coiling within the martyr of desolation lurking under the rose lying upon a wicked healer.
Has their rose exploited their orgasmic flowers?
Their vampire swarms , and yet their wicked shamans mourn longing for their dust!
Has a Queen stamping on a uncaring garden accepted their raindrops..?
Magyckal children laugh, hopefully.
Misunderstood termites destroy a primitive thunderbolt.
The garden beside the rock is as cold as my chaotic spasm.
At last, the vicious jewel.
for the original code. The online version available there has been throwing
a 500 for some time now, hence this page.