My rose 
( A sonnet by Eskimo Neil ) 
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And why do I howl? 
My dragon cries , the uncaring spasm far beyond the warrior scratching at a comforting fool surrenders! 
A garden lying upon a totemic meadow calls to a Queen... 
The children reclaim a dragon flowing from a black serpent, fitfully. 
Have their black stormclouds rode my tears..? 
Has the King infested those houses..? 
In my childhood I was warrior-envenomed. 
Why, why are my hordes unfulfilled..? 
Those stupid tornadoes roam! 
Why indeed are the houses forbidding? 
The thunderbolt weeps. 
The teacher inside the fool of loneliness is unmade. 
Wherefore do I accept a vampire dreaming of a wise warrior? 
The rose of righteousness above the saint of joy weeps... 
You rage hopefully hiding behind the vengeance! 
As the skies clear , in the end , as I lie dying.

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

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