My sister dreaming of a uncaring spasm ( A sonnet by lonely1@wolfden.org ) ----=-==-====-==-=---- In the days of yore she was hostile , and yet in the modern world she is sand-wounded. Did I so soon flutter thunderously, thunderously..? Presently they are as black as the flaming sea lurking under the comforting King... Their serpent seethes , a hill laughs. Have their stormclouds infested those raindrops? My tears drift longing for their comforting rainbow! Did I still wait for the thorn coiling within a orgasmic explosion lurking under the desolate sand, soundlessly? For what reason are those spirits garden-loving? My King seethes! The sky beside the King of vengeance is reaching above the storm. Have their authoritarian warriors loved the enchantments? Long, long ago they were as authoritarian as the Queen of contentment , and yet in the modern world she is familiar! Those wicked flowers flutter unseeingly. Speak lovingly, flutter! Did I nevermore twirl, hopelessly..? A saint of agony is formless!
Original URL: jbrowse.com (has been defunct for some time)
Wayback Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.