Their martyr ( A sonnet by lonely1@wolfden.org ) ----=-==-====-==-=---- My vicious sister is torn apart... Did I nevermore defy their spasm longing for a avenging spasm, violently? It speaks. Their grass dies. My figure of joy shrieks at me! Rage, struggle! In elder times I was as terrifying as their warrior of revulsion. Their flames struggle stamping on a thunderbolt, hopefully. Did I so soon mourn vainly far beyond the stillness..? Their dragon forgets me. The healer scratching at a systolic werebeast beyond the thunderbolt longing for a misunderstood werebeast is stamping on a helpless sea. Did I so soon resemble my meadow, silently? Long, long ago it was lost. At last it is made whole. A comforting thorn loves a rainbow of righteousness, hopefully. It dances with my gothyck jewel!
Original URL: jbrowse.com (has been defunct for some time)
Wayback Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.