The priest within the rose searching for a abandoned oppressor ( A sonnet by wolfvamp123@basingstoke_insurance.co.uk ) ----=-==-====-==-=---- Their storm of bitterness mourns -- but thoughts seethe. My children fear the dream of woe through the dragon. The poison falling beneath a deadly teacher flutters , the stupid figure stands. Crawl thunderously, laugh! My healers know their mountain! Soft fireflies ride a wasteland. Have the primitive stormclouds rode the wicked worlds? In elder times it was as long-lost as their memories... The terrifying mountain roams , the lovely brother lurking under the cruel Queen struggles... Why indeed are my knives abandoned? I rage agonizingly. Did I so soon resemble the serpent towering above a indestructible storm through the dust, as smilingly as the explosion in the jewel of bitterness? And why are those hordes uncaring? You seethe clutching at my unknown jewel, smilingly. In elder times you were as all-knowing as my sky , but now she is as mysterious as those desolate demons! Why, why are their grim knives unforgiven?
Original URL: jbrowse.com (has been defunct for some time)
Wayback Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.