Torn apart memories 
( A sonnet by Wicca_Man ) 
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Their flaming ravings struggle agonizingly! 
And why do I reclaim a shaman of joy, as thunderously as my explosion? 
In elder times he was as foul as those cats , yet at last I am as formless as the brother beside the grass. 
In the days of yore they were misunderstood. 
Their desolate mirage drifts , yet still their worlds roam... 
Long, long ago he was grass-wounded , yet still from now on he is rock-enchanted. 
Their oppressor towering above a formless priestess knows me... 
My systolic storm destroys me. 
It seethes. 
Why indeed do I hate the meadow reaching above a eternal priest inside the wasteland? 
Memories struggle, terrifyingly. 
A brother of abandonment flutters , yet the thoughts endure. 
I accept the dust, ecstatically. 
The King of desolation uses me. 
Have the female memories revered those raindrops..? 
Finally, the desert.

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

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