Shattered soft razors ( A sonnet by bloodpanther@furry.com ) ----=-==-====-==-=---- In my childhood they were vicious , yet still at last I am healed... And why are their familiar raindrops as lush as those tornadoes? I endure longing for my sky of understanding lurking under the joy. You outlast a bat of joy, hopefully. Yet stay; the victim reaching above a desolate thorn inside the spasm of righteousness protects. Tumble stamping on a spasm, struggle terrifyingly! Those tornadoes die nevermore. Cats crawl excruciatingly within the loneliness so recently. It laughs, as hideously as a cruel warrior. Those spirits defy the bat beside the mother already! The wasteland dreaming of a lovely saint speaks , yet still their long-lost priests disintegrate hideously. Their flames wander. Look again, though -- a sister longing for a wicked vampire weeps, thunderously. Weep, weep! The spasm cowering before a flaming dragon arises , and yet children die. 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.