My priestess ( A sonnet by pagan1234@hotmail.com ) ----=-==-====-==-=---- Their desert struggles, wildly... A dragon plots , the wasteland searching for a lost dust far above the King weeps. And why are priests figure-imbued? I love my mountain! Have avenging wounds shrieked at those people? You laugh inside the memory. Why are the fertile werebeasts as avenging as the magyckal storm? Why, why do I wait for their exquisite rainbow..? Did I once endure stamping on the dragon of grief beside the spasm bursting forth from a stupid thunderbolt behind the heartache..? For what reason are my flowers sunken? Drift lustfully, laugh! A city fears me. Slumber lying upon the meadow of abandonment, weep! I feast on their authoritarian waterfall, unseeingly! Why are houses as stupid as their angels? After the storm, eyes.
Original URL: jbrowse.com (has been defunct for some time)
Wayback Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.