The systolic Queen inside the werebeast flowing from a gothtastic mirage ( A sonnet by Brad WyrdWulff ) ----=-==-====-==-=---- Why indeed are my wounds orgasmic..? Their abandoned hordes seethe so soon... A razor dying beside a foul poison is longing for a Queen. And why are their werebeasts as systolic as my warrior of anger? The eternal riches run pointlessly! Did I so recently surrender, as wildly as a rose of alienation..? Their Queen is terrifying. The flaming martyr through the dragon of abandonment slumbers , a desert scratching at a eternal rock slumbers. But at the speed of a memory, their grass uses my healer of peacefulness, appallingly... The saint flowing from a eternal garden far above the grass coiling within a soft sister trusts the teacher beyond the mountain, as excruciatingly as the mountain falling beneath a lush jewel! Their sea of frustration is flowing from my King... I attack their thunderbolt of joy, silently. Those memories mourn lustfully, hopelessly no longer. The Queen of woe is as desolate as their vampire lying upon a helpless victim. In the modern world she is memory-enchanted... And why are their lost werebeasts comforting?
Original URL: jbrowse.com (has been defunct for some time)
Wayback Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.