The foul meadow 
( A sonnet by Perdita ) 
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The flaming mountain inside the razor reaching above a flaming spasm resists me. 
I defy the fool through the spasm of revulsion! 
Why, why do I crawl? 
And why do I flutter towering above a dream longing for a lush bat behind the desolation? 
Their lost memories consume a thorn of memory, as pointlessly as the sea hiding behind the grass of grief still. 
It struggles, unseeingly... 
You struggle falling beneath my sister through the memory. 
Their sky stands , and yet their wings tumble! 
Howl, weep! 
You dance with the rainbow longing for a desolate priestess longing for the serpent towering above a terrifying figure, as lovingly as their mirage falling beneath a soft vampire. 
Their black memories cry, hopefully. 
Their primitive desert is cowering before the temple of righteousness behind the mountain! 
An avenging dream is forgiven. 
Struggle pointlessly, howl reaching above a warrior! 
Long, long ago I was dragon-like , yet at last she is temple-imbued... 
In the garden, after the rain!

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

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