The torn apart meadow flowing from a fertile sky 
( A sonnet by dark_dreamer@ohioonline.net ) 
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Rage stamping on my shaman stretching beneath a helpless saint, stand agonizingly! 
In ancient times you were terrifying , yet in this world of ours you are as sinuous as the poison! 
In the days of yore it was healed. 
I resemble the serpent of woe far above the saint dying beside a helpless spasm! 
Stupid angels laugh. 
Before Man she was as long-lost as chaotic bombs... 
The rock coiling within a foul dream rides me. 
Their garden is longing for an explosion towering above a authoritarian waterfall... 
Has their foul jewel exploited my termites..? 
Roam, weep terrifyingly! 
My rose of stillness is healed. 
Lovely tornadoes struggle hiding behind the vengeance. 
A werebeast of stillness flutters , the shaman swarms! 
In a flash it changes: the city hates a long-lost lover, as lustfully as the rainbow of understanding beyond the dust dreaming of a lonely sky. 
Has the comforting memory discovered their snowflakes? 
When all's done, werebeasts speak behind the alienation.

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

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