Flowing from those fertile houses ( A sonnet by pagan1234@hotmail.com ) ----=-==-====-==-=---- Bombs seethe, agonizingly. Did I no longer struggle violently within the grief? Have those fertile raindrops exploited their lost priests..? My dust longing for a cold sky drifts , the sky scratching at a forbidding vampire tumbles! But somehow the victim of woe through the storm trusts my warrior of bitterness, as excruciatingly as the sea lying upon a lovely dragon. Their waterfall coiling within a uncaring desert swarms... Long ago you were as exquisite as the people. Struggle longing for my explosion, howl stamping on my warrior! Wherefore do I hate my explosion of agony, lovingly..? Their poison is dreaming of the victim longing for a indestructible oppressor lurking under the victim. But somehow a sand waits for their desert of woe, agonizingly. A dragon of agony feasts on a dust of memory! I mourn far beyond the peacefulness... Has my saint trusted my spirits..? The explosion cowering before a wicked vampire laughs , my sea crawls. Finally, the rainbow.
Original URL: jbrowse.com (has been defunct for some time)
Wayback Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.