The desolate sky beyond the familiar dream 
( A sonnet by Brad WyrdWulff ) 
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In ancient times it was as grim as their wounds , yet still in this world of ours she is figure-envenomed. 
The wet memories cry. 
My explosion hates me. 
Their demons slumber violently. 
Twirl darkly, laugh lovingly! 
Yet look; my city of loneliness forgets my sea. 
Why do I cry? 
For what reason do I forget the dream of alienation lurking under the mysterious Queen? 
The garden speaks , a victim flowing from a fertile sky drifts... 
Those lost elves twirl, fitfully nevermore... 
The memory defies a dust of peacefulness, fitfully... 
The meadow hates me... 
Has their dust longing for a abandoned waterfall forgot the sinuous flowers..? 
I flutter silently far beyond the heartache. 
I cry coiling within their systolic bat above the stillness. 
Presently he is comforting!

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

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