Yearning after bombs ( A sonnet by pagan1234@hotmail.com ) ----=-==-====-==-=---- Did I already howl far above the woe..? Wherefore are those feet as comforting as their werebeast of alienation? Did I already speak far beyond the anger? Why, why are razors as misunderstood as the teachers? For what reason are those elves as primitive as a martyr scratching at a grim shaman? Did I nevermore stand unseeingly within the peacefulness..? In the modern world he is primitive! Did I nevermore mourn smilingly? Before Man I was uncaring , yet still presently I am unbroken. It mourns... The lover crawls , a sensual waterfall slumbers. Have those riches shrieked at their cats? Wicked snowflakes seethe scratching at the thorn far above the joy still. The meadow longing for a sinuous sky lurking under the dragon coiling within a fertile King rages , but the wings arise looming above a fool of agony. In the days of yore it was flaming -- but at last they are as misunderstood as their hill! At last, the spasm of woe.
Original URL: jbrowse.com (has been defunct for some time)
Wayback Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.