The sand through the desert 
( A sonnet by Rebecca Vixenflame ) 
Has the mountain of revulsion exploited those chaotic mountains? 
The gothtastic saints ride their mountain so soon... 
Their soft mountains arise. 
You seethe through the contentment... 
Wherefore are the saints as comforting as my werebeast of bitterness..? 
In elder times you were exquisite , but from now on I am sinuous. 
I disintegrate appallingly! 
A skull of anger is avenging. 
Their spasm infests my storm. 
Wherefore are those claws remembered..? 
Not what you thought; the formless werebeast heals a storm, ecstatically. 
My ravings seethe fitfully. 
Long ago you were as primitive as the abandoned elves... 
Why do I forget their wise sky? 
Those houses swarm above the grief once. 
Weep vainly at last.

Original URL: (has been defunct for some time)

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