The wet King ( A sonnet by Severina ) ----=-==-====-==-=---- Have the vicious wolves exploited those sinuous knives? A fool of abandonment is longing for the vampire of joy beyond the priest. Wherefore are their stupid hordes as avenging as my gothyck spasm? The all-knowing elves rage yearning after a waterfall through the contentment so recently. My lost explosion waits for me. My hostile memories seethe excruciatingly, violently once... The fool far above the wasteland cries. Their dream yearning after a lovely sand rages -- but feet cry vainly... The figure of abandonment dying beside the victim is as authoritarian as their helpless raindrops. The mother through the lost brother cries , my priest searching for a totemic oppressor surrenders. Their dust consumes me. My houses mourn. Their dust of memory dies , yet those snowflakes twirl restlessly. The city bursting forth from a uncaring King beyond the shaman dreaming of a primitive King loves me. Their garden exploits me... Did I no longer feast on the sea of desolation..?
Original URL: jbrowse.com (has been defunct for some time)
Wayback Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.