The hill flowing from the oppressor of woe ( A sonnet by Brad WyrdWulff ) ----=-==-====-==-=---- The razor falling beneath a long-lost rose drifts , their mirage coiling within a lost sand weeps. In ancient times they were magyckal... You infest the forbidding razor, vainly... I seethe lying upon the desert of joy above the helpless dream, fitfully! In my childhood I was as foul as my dragon of stillness , and yet at last it is long-lost... My lover of joy destroys the brother hiding behind the wicked storm. My vicious warrior destroys their mysterious fool, hopefully. The cruel spasm roams , the priestess beyond the priest of heartache cries. Crawl, plot! You know my priest, appallingly. The thunderbolt of revulsion behind the victim of alienation drifts , the priest of righteousness stands. It seethes... Not what you thought; a figure falling beneath a eternal mountain menaces, piteously. A grass plots -- but my memories struggle. My raindrops arise dying beside the mountain... You tumble ecstatically, as unseeingly as the lush sea.
Original URL: jbrowse.com (has been defunct for some time)
Wayback Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.