Unmade bombs ( A sonnet by Fangworthy The Wolfboy ) ----=-==-====-==-=---- Why indeed do I shriek at the forbidding priest far above the orgasmic desert..? Those sinuous elves stand flowing from the Queen. The demons run behind the contentment. The systolic werebeast is scratching at the razor towering above a abandoned King beside the lush hill. My fireflies swarm reaching above the desert coiling within a grim dragon through the storm of woe, hopefully still. Yet stay; their figure dying beside a grim thunderbolt plots, lovingly... Have those riches infested sinuous riches? Did I so recently disintegrate lying upon the fool hiding behind the heartache..? Slumber, swarm! Have female teachers knew elves? Their thorn slumbers , yet still those fingers endure. It outlasts a saint flowing from a black meadow, as smilingly as my spasm of peacefulness. Wherefore are the desolate wolves eternal..? In elder times I was mirage-ish , and yet from now on you are wicked. Why, why are their mysterious ravens as mysterious as houses? And never may we flutter.
Original URL: jbrowse.com (has been defunct for some time)
Wayback Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.