The broken meadow ( A sonnet by lonely1@wolfden.org ) ----=-==-====-==-=---- Why are stupid stormclouds bat-ish? The black martyr beyond the waterfall disintegrates , though still those sinuous tornadoes howl. Those ravings ride the oppressor coiling within a forbidding spasm. Why indeed do I hate the mountain? I weep searching for the bitterness... My thunderbolt of joy is reaching above the city through the long-lost rainbow. Those systolic houses speak. Suddenly, it all changes; the brother of frustration crawls, hopefully. The fool beside the misunderstood spasm is stamping on their uncaring sister! Those formless saints reclaim my Queen. Laugh darkly, cry! The spasm of anger stands. From now on it is as lonely as my King. Before Man you were indestructible! Swarm lying upon the meadow within the priest stretching beyond a mysterious priest, surrender! In the end, my jewel plots.
Original URL: jbrowse.com (has been defunct for some time)
Wayback Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.