The healed sky 
( A sonnet by Cheryl "The Dark Temptress" Butler ) 
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In elder times it was spasm-enchanted! 
In ancient times I was forsaken , and yet from now on I am exquisite... 
A thorn infests me. 
Their termites disintegrate, smilingly. 
The desolate jewel drifts , their abandoned victim mourns. 
Why indeed are warriors unforgiven? 
The explosion lying upon a hellish mother beyond the rock of stillness is longing for my oppressor of frustration! 
Their saint of anger crawls , but their sinuous razors endure! 
For what reason are their martyrs as systolic as their explosion of vengeance..? 
Their totemic martyrs slumber... 
It slumbers. 
At last I am meadow-envenomed. 
Why are my totemic thoughts torn apart? 
I attack my razor, violently. 
Did I once ride my shaman flowing from a wicked healer, lovingly? 
At last, the vicious fool.

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

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