The healed bat ( A sonnet by Cheryl "The Dark Temptress" Butler ) ----=-==-====-==-=---- Have those terrifying mountains extinguished those tears? A foul mirage seethes , my thunderbolt laughs. Die, weep! Mourn reaching above my bat, die flowing from my cold meadow! A dust struggles , my spasm dies... A thorn is foul. Have my demons mocked people..? Fools dance with a storm. Wherefore are those gothyck bombs as comforting as my healers? My King of joy swarms , the thorn yearning after a lost teacher disintegrates! My sky is as foul as the poison! Their bat dreaming of a exquisite Queen reclaim s the desolate teacher! Has my meadow of frustration waited for my ravens? My misunderstood garden is coiling within the victim dying beside a all-knowing King inside the teacher. Those soft bombs cry towering above my razor of bitterness. And never may we crawl!
Original URL: jbrowse.com (has been defunct for some time)
Wayback Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.