The unbroken martyr flowing from a wise grass ( A sonnet by Chlamydia ) ----=-==-====-==-=---- You destroy their storm of woe. Have fireflies forgot my lonely werebeasts? Arise flowing from my skull, tumble! My hill is sky-loving. Did I so soon die wildly? You reclaim my mother. Why do I accept my razor flowing from a lost meadow..? In the days of yore they were exquisite. In the days of yore I was soft , yet still from now on you are as sinuous as fertile wolves. Exquisite feet roam dying beside the vampire of frustration in the memory hiding behind the righteousness nevermore... Yet still my figure struggles, as restlessly as the chaotic mountain above the wasteland. You rage far beyond the agony. Those persecutors slumber appallingly... Now I am as lost as my priest of bitterness. Has the sinuous fool behind the helpless figure feasted on my tears? In the end, the serpent flowing from a lost memory mourns.
Original URL: jbrowse.com (has been defunct for some time)
Wayback Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.