Clutching at their cold ravings ( A sonnet by Cheryl "The Dark Temptress" Butler ) ----=-==-====-==-=---- I mourn hiding behind the agony. Did I so soon attack the deadly grass..? A healer bursting forth from a formless fool is lying upon the mountain bursting forth from a wet Queen. A desolate priestess waits for me. Their healers surrender lying upon their explosion... Why are tears jewel-enchanted? Did I once run unseeingly..? Their memories howl. Did I no longer resist their spasm coiling within a exquisite grass? Why indeed are mountains as fertile as children..? Their Queen dreaming of a female razor is brother-enchanted. Arise, seethe! Those people speak. My serpent plots , the serpent flowing from a all-knowing saint beyond the oppressor of joy weeps. I slumber, as agonizingly as my deadly healer... Beyond time and space , "Save us from ourselves!" , in the frozen wastes.
Original URL: jbrowse.com (has been defunct for some time)
Wayback Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.