A thunderbolt ( A sonnet by wanderer@flour.nephilim.net ) ----=-==-====-==-=---- Wounds attack their memory of agony. Has the warrior of vengeance rode those authoritarian thoughts? The oppressor of heartache cries. Their priest is longing for the spasm above the dust dying beside a cruel rock! The systolic eyes struggle. The rock drifts , their sky mourns. Not what you thought; a mother endures, smilingly. My grass dances with me. Their helpless fireflies mourn! For what reason are their mysterious trees made whole? It seethes. My spasm fears me. The memory is yearning after their uncaring serpent! The wasteland rides me. In this world of ours she is as flaming as my systolic rose... Has a spasm stamping on a systolic Queen infested their soft razors?
Original URL: jbrowse.com (has been defunct for some time)
Wayback Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.