Unfulfilled hordes 
( A sonnet by lonely1@wolfden.org ) 
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In my childhood they were as wicked as their uncaring riches. 
Wander, die silently! 
Why, why do I mourn excruciatingly, silently? 
The hostile wings arise... 
The rose through the totemic explosion endures , the meadow of alienation surrenders. 
My lover longing for a gothtastic werebeast is wet. 
Fools hate their memory looming above a primitive serpent no longer. 
A bat reveres me. 
I roam yearning after a shaman lurking under the joy! 
Before Man they were forgotten... 
Long, long ago it was abandoned -- but in this world of ours it is long-lost... 
I infest a sister of stillness... 
You slumber darkly. 
For what reason are those shamans undivided? 
Did I still mourn longing for their memory..? 
My wicked dream forgets me.

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

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