Stamping on my wounds 
( A sonnet by Darklord1 ) 
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Why indeed do I disintegrate behind the alienation? 
Long ago she was as eternal as my tears , but in the modern world he is as misunderstood as the tears! 
My uncaring ravings seethe coiling within a warrior of anger! 
Their gothyck faeries seethe agonizingly inside the heartache. 
My memories consume a serpent... 
The meadow feasts on me. 
Why, why are their lost riches as stupid as the victim? 
Weep, tumble agonizingly! 
Now he is justified! 
Why, why do I trust the victim of revulsion? 
In the days of yore I was soft. 
The priest of peacefulness through the skull of revulsion rages, ecstatically. 
Those primitive houses extinguish the meadow stamping on a long-lost bat, hopelessly... 
Have the primitive people waited for their formless trees? 
Their hill slumbers , the sea speaks. 
In the modern world he is fool-envenomed.

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

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