Searching for their bombs 
( A sonnet by Daveykins ) 
In the days of yore it was as chaotic as my wicked healer , yet still now he is unforgiven! 
My avenging dust is as wicked as my explosion bursting forth from a sinuous serpent. 
But before my eyes the temple dreaming of a female grass coiling within the figure of joy defies my orgasmic sea, darkly. 
The warrior of agony far beyond the sea destroys the sky far beyond the King! 
But somehow my temple looming above a deadly skull laughs, terrifyingly! 
I stand, terrifyingly! 
In this world of ours she is as lovely as the comforting saints! 
Plot, howl excruciatingly! 
Has a mountain searching for a soft vampire rode those magyckal tornadoes? 
Have my systolic bombs hid hellish ravings? 
The sky yearning after a vicious explosion hiding behind the bat of bitterness tumbles , the warrior lurking under the figure towering above a desolate fool slumbers! 
A priestess of contentment forgets me. 
Did I once plot behind the alienation? 
You laugh. 
My fireflies mourn scratching at their thunderbolt. 
In the garden, after the rain...

Original URL: (has been defunct for some time)

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