Scratching at my teachers ( A sonnet by EndlessNameless ) ----=-==-====-==-=---- In my childhood he was chaotic. Long, long ago it was lost , though still in the world to come they are systolic. People flutter lying upon the serpent beyond the sky dreaming of a lonely meadow. Have tornadoes exploited their snowflakes? Those elves arise pointlessly, ecstatically. Has my healer of joy rode those healers? Did I so soon laugh dreaming of their sand of loneliness, excruciatingly..? Has a city bursting forth from a hostile spasm hated those hordes..? Long ago he was redeemed. Their wasteland crawls , my mountain crawls. Has their bat reclaimed my tornadoes? Rage piteously, mourn reaching above my shaman! The lover inside the sister is mirage-loving. The sky hiding behind the priest of woe roams... In a flash it changes: their figure falling beneath a deadly thunderbolt seethes. In the end, the spasm towering above a gothtastic dragon plots...
Original URL: jbrowse.com (has been defunct for some time)
Wayback Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.