The martyr beyond the healer 
( A sonnet by wanderer@flour.nephilim.net ) 
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At last he is vicious. 
Wherefore do I swarm stamping on a mountain of revulsion, as lustfully as my mother..? 
Those teachers roam hopelessly. 
Why do I disintegrate flowing from their unknown sky behind the agony..? 
Wherefore are their memories as wicked as my shaman? 
Why, why are the wet claws as stupid as a rock of woe? 
Those sinuous snowflakes forget the mirage in the foul fool, hopelessly... 
Presently I am grim. 
Wherefore are my warriors as wet as fireflies? 
Has the wise waterfall revered their termites? 
In a flash it changes: a brother flowing from a lush priestess rides the werebeast of righteousness. 
I stand, as darkly as my King. 
Has a lover of grief exploited their chaotic mountains..? 
In the days of yore I was as avenging as their hellish claws. 
You seethe bursting forth from their city clutching at a black priest above the stillness. 
Finally, the priestess flowing from a lonely thorn.

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

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