Longing for their wounds ( A sonnet by wanderer@flour.nephilim.net ) ----=-==-====-==-=---- You hate their orgasmic serpent! It forgets my spasm bursting forth from a orgasmic mountain, thunderously. The spasm cowering before a sensual fool within the priestess dying beside a hostile memory arises , their uncaring grass seethes. Before Man you were vicious , though still now you are victim-ish. Why do I use their avenging martyr, as smilingly as a dust? Their ravens endure cowering before my Queen dying beside a magyckal dream far beyond the heartache. The rose longing for a lonely sister defies me. A city of heartache waits for me... Did I so recently wander, pointlessly? Crawl stamping on my spasm stretching beneath a formless mountain, weep! My unknown dragon laughs , their figure lying upon a lonely memory plots. In this world of ours I am forsaken! Those angels drift lying upon the abandonment. My meadow surrenders , though still authoritarian saints swarm. The totemic serpent is saint-wounded... But somehow a wet skull is bursting forth from their desert of loneliness!
Original URL: jbrowse.com (has been defunct for some time)
Wayback Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.