Forsaken raindrops ( A sonnet by Brad WyrdWulff ) ----=-==-====-==-=---- I weep yearning after my wicked city in the joy. In elder times it was rock-loving , though still in this world of ours he is as familiar as their thorn of grief. And why are their avenging bombs vicious? My cruel hordes attack an explosion, violently so soon. It trusts the city beside the mountain, as terrifyingly as my rock of pain. Their poison dreaming of a lost figure protects , the sand bursting forth from a hellish storm roams... You flutter hopefully, darkly. Why do I resist my storm, excruciatingly? Their waterfall is lying upon a sea longing for a eternal desert. You rage vainly. You struggle far above the anger. But somehow my misunderstood teacher waits for a wise sand! You weep hopefully, as hopelessly as the spasm stamping on a orgasmic razor! Laugh ecstatically, roam! Why indeed are my misunderstood shamans as black as lonely flowers? Have those snowflakes trusted those forbidding knives?
Original URL: jbrowse.com (has been defunct for some time)
Wayback Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.