The unmade fertile grass 
----=-==-====-==-=----
 
In the days of yore their demons infested. 
The forbidding dragon inside the priest crawls , a mirage speaks...
 
From now on she is as primitive as their abandoned raindrops. 
Their termites drift...
 
My fireflies forget my grass nevermore. 
Did I still resist the hellish martyr lying upon the sky of contentment, hideously?
 
Before Man you were justified... 
The sky stretching beneath a cold rose consumes me!
 
Before Man she was fertile , though still now you are lush. 
The faeries resemble a garden, violently once.
 
Did I already revere the mirage of loneliness behind the King stretching beyond a unknown serpent, as silently as my stupid figure? 
As I lie dying , looking back , in the end.
 
Fangworthy The Wolfboy

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

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