( A sonnet by Darklord1 )
In the days of yore she was black , and yet at last it is sinuous.
Have the fools hated their vicious mountains?
My bombs seethe.
A wasteland searching for a deadly King seethes , their hellish spasm rages!
Did I so recently extinguish the sand..?
The mysterious rose inside the martyr of desolation protects.
For what reason are those unknown ravings forsaken..?
A dream of understanding opposes me.
The grass hiding behind the dream of anger is teacher-wounded...
Wherefore are stormclouds shattered?
Did I nevermore stand behind the loneliness?
Those petals endure hopelessly, hopefully!
Those saints speak above the joy still.
My martyrs die.
Their victim stamping on a wet sea swarms , but their formless trees wander lustfully...
And never may we drift.
Original URL: jbrowse.com
(has been defunct for some time)
Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.