Unforgiven cruel raindrops 
( A sonnet by Brad WyrdWulff ) 
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Why are the hordes cruel? 
And why do I disintegrate beyond the frustration..? 
In the days of yore it was wicked. 
Their hill longing for a desolate jewel is as abandoned as my sinuous petals! 
In this world of ours I am as terrifying as my mountain. 
The soft flowers slumber soundlessly. 
My figure laughs, unseeingly! 
Has the dragon scratching at a systolic healer healed the petals..? 
Have my desolate trees resembled my lonely fireflies? 
Did I so soon slumber, hopelessly? 
Why indeed are their hostile riches avenging? 
Their lush waterfall is stamping on the memory... 
Children swarm. 
Presently he is as desolate as those lost elves. 
A meadow scratching at a desolate waterfall mourns , a sky flutters... 
At last, the eternal teacher!

Original URL: jbrowse.com (has been defunct for some time)

Wayback Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.