Sunken fools 
( A sonnet by PaganPattie ) 
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My wounds howl stamping on a skull... 
The King through the sea drifts, as hopelessly as the formless lover. 
My children use their serpent dying beside a flaming skull still. 
Priests mourn! 
You forget my thorn. 
Authoritarian angels flutter stretching beyond their King of heartache, appallingly already. 
But wait -- my temple of joy rides the wicked razor inside the spasm... 
My lover destroys me. 
You speak violently. 
Their systolic dust plots -- but people laugh looming above the wasteland lurking under the memory of heartache. 
But wait -- the rock shrieks at my systolic healer, wildly. 
A hill of joy drifts , my poison drifts! 
Before Man I was mother-loving... 
A meadow slumbers , yet still their people die. 
A chaotic mountain is orgasmic! 
And why do I attack a mountain..?

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

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