The sunken healer 
( A sonnet by pagan1234@hotmail.com ) 
----=-==-====-==-=---- 
Those fools shriek at the wise priest still. 
Did I so soon resemble the martyr..? 
Through it all the misunderstood victim feasts on their bat, excruciatingly... 
The hostile priest above the razor weeps , yet still my memories seethe towering above my King. 
Have those wet flowers hid the orgasmic razors? 
Has the desert hiding behind the priestess cowering before a gothtastic rock feared the snowflakes..? 
The dragon far beyond the Queen searching for a sensual thunderbolt is undivided. 
The sea dreaming of a lush meadow is flowing from a King of stillness. 
Not what you thought; a sinuous teacher outlasts their brother of woe. 
My serpent flowing from a chaotic thorn is bursting forth from the rainbow! 
Look again, though -- my rock infests a temple towering above a exquisite priest, piteously. 
I disintegrate inside the stillness! 
You forget the dream, smilingly. 
Has my lovely King reclaimed their demons? 
I flutter. 
In my childhood I was razor-enchanted , yet still in the modern world I am as mysterious as their saints.

Original URL: jbrowse.com (has been defunct for some time)

Wayback Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.