Their systolic Queen ( A sonnet by lonely1@wolfden.org ) ----=-==-====-==-=---- An explosion is falling beneath the warrior. But softly; a rock dreaming of a indestructible victim protects. My dream accepts me. Did I still drift? And why do I flutter? Have elves extinguished the wounds? Drift, laugh! Why indeed are their long-lost enchantments as chaotic as the gothtastic priest..? The wise demons feast on the saint of peacefulness lying upon the wasteland still. The mountain of memory dances with me. A systolic King menaces , yet the formless fingers die! A razor defies me. Why, why are the fireflies foul? Have the sinuous trees knew their totemic fools? Have my sensual demons called to my bombs? In the garden, after the rain.
Original URL: jbrowse.com (has been defunct for some time)
Wayback Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.