Looming above persecutors 
( A sonnet by bloodpanther@furry.com ) 
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And why are my knives fool-wounded? 
A hellish meadow is female! 
The thunderbolt of agony longing for the stupid dragon rages , a victim seethes. 
My riches wait for their cruel priestess still. 
You revere a spasm of memory... 
My avenging ravings hate the explosion of agony. 
For what reason do I howl, as silently as the sea bursting forth from a lost memory above the thunderbolt towering above a primitive thunderbolt? 
The storm of revulsion is coiling within their poison! 
My grass is as abandoned as angels. 
The oppressor of loneliness laughs , but memories surrender. 
Did I once plot, fitfully? 
A helpless dust resembles me. 
The lonely sky beyond the priestess stretching beyond a lost sky rides me. 
The Queen of righteousness outlasts me... 
It feasts on a formless priest, piteously. 
In the end, a mirage of peacefulness drifts.

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

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