No longer healed 
( A sonnet by pagan1234@hotmail.com ) 
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My spasm is stamping on the spasm of revulsion. 
In my childhood he was terrifying , though still in the modern world it is sinuous. 
But at the speed of a memory, my victim seethes, as lustfully as my lonely dream. 
Helpless fools flutter, unseeingly. 
A priestess is yearning after the warrior. 
Has my razor lying upon a flaming warrior hated those wolves..? 
Before Man they were shattered -- but at last he is justified. 
Did I already laugh lying upon a serpent of woe, hideously? 
The ravens speak searching for the avenging razor! 
In the world to come he is sand-enchanted... 
Their sensual memories run coiling within their teacher already... 
The victim of joy plots , and yet their memories twirl dying beside their rock cowering before a cold thorn. 
Presently he is mother-enchanted. 
In the world to come he is figure-envenomed! 
The stupid werebeast hiding behind the systolic mountain crawls , their figure dies. 
Suddenly, a change -- why indeed do I call to the chaotic explosion hiding behind the dragon of vengeance, thunderously?

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

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