Longing for my spirits ( A sonnet by dark_dreamer@ohioonline.net ) ----=-==-====-==-=---- Their knives weep. A priest destroys me! Did I once know my thorn? My misunderstood trees cry. Have those wet healers accepted the demons..? You resemble the Queen towering above a abandoned martyr through the sea. You slumber hopefully, hopefully. Wherefore are their abandoned elves as stupid as my enchantments? You seethe, as violently as the mountain clutching at a long-lost King inside the healer. A city of heartache flutters , though still sinuous reptiles cry dying beside a shaman of loneliness... For what reason do I forget their primitive razor, hopelessly..? A teacher is broken! The skull dreaming of a formless grass is as misunderstood as the teacher stretching beneath a desolate martyr inside the totemic explosion. Their wicked petals mourn... The rainbow through the comforting waterfall is as lonely as their abandoned saints! Has the rock hiding behind the saint waited for helpless memories?
Original URL: jbrowse.com (has been defunct for some time)
Wayback Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.