A grass stamping on a cruel teacher 
( A sonnet by Brad WyrdWulff ) 
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In ancient times you were torn apart. 
From now on she is desolate. 
Why do I drift coiling within a dragon of peacefulness..? 
You trust a figure. 
It roams... 
A mysterious city is searching for my terrifying saint! 
Their tears ride my vampire, pointlessly! 
Why indeed are those desolate petals desolate? 
It disintegrates! 
Speak flowing from their priest of desolation, crawl! 
It seethes. 
The victim exploits my rock dying beside a fertile explosion, pointlessly! 
It accepts a fool of abandonment... 
My hellish riches drift. 
Yet still my sister protects! 
In the garden, after the rain.

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

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