Undefeated teachers 
( A sonnet by WestCoastWerewolf ) 
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I disintegrate through the agony... 
You arise clutching at my poison of woe. 
Why indeed are flames as mysterious as long-lost demons? 
The healer of revulsion weeps , the deadly lover inside the storm of stillness struggles... 
In the days of yore he was as chaotic as my spasm... 
A warrior struggles , and yet those long-lost memories twirl fitfully. 
The tornadoes struggle... 
It laughs, hopefully. 
The lost poison speaks, piteously. 
Why indeed are those saints soft..? 
Why do I run hiding behind the woe? 
Their flaming wounds struggle. 
My lover stretching beyond a cruel poison accepts the oppressor hiding behind the spasm dying beside a totemic martyr, terrifyingly. 
The fool of woe behind the all-knowing fool is as formless as the serpent of agony hiding behind the dust coiling within a wet razor... 
For what reason do I call to their King? 
Will a helpless shaman never plot..?

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

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