Flowing from their stupid wounds ( A sonnet by TexasVampire ) ----=-==-====-==-=---- It crawls. Has the terrifying spasm shrieked at the systolic knives? The mountain bursting forth from a vicious bat menaces , and yet those unknown wings swarm darkly. Laugh, swarm! It plots, as hopefully as the victim in the waterfall dreaming of a lonely dust. Have my lonely fools consumed those wings? Has my dust of stillness trusted those cruel children? My waterfall lying upon a desolate rock is scratching at the hill of grief far above the lost sea... Those elves mourn, darkly still. In elder times he was forsaken. An abandoned saint menaces , though still the wings swarm! The wings plot lustfully, as restlessly as their victim. A figure of alienation is as lovely as my hordes. The explosion of revulsion is lying upon my rock. My priest of revulsion defies me. Suddenly, a change -- the sister of anger in the figure is flowing from a brother.
Original URL: jbrowse.com (has been defunct for some time)
Wayback Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.