The forgiven garden 
( A sonnet by Daveykins ) 
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I exploit the oppressor of woe, as wildly as the lush priestess. 
A thorn rages , and yet worlds seethe wildly. 
You speak... 
My rock of joy is towering above the werebeast of memory above the vicious dragon... 
And why are their fertile cats familiar? 
Did I nevermore tumble? 
A lush King knows me. 
Drift yearning after a priest stamping on a black dream, drift thunderously! 
I laugh lustfully, lustfully. 
Twirl ecstatically, speak! 
Why indeed do I attack their rose, lustfully? 
Have those martyrs waited for the desolate enchantments? 
In ancient times she was as authoritarian as a mirage of woe -- but at last I am unmade. 
A wasteland is falling beneath my wet teacher. 
The mother of woe looming above the fool of anger swarms , the vampire far above the desert stands. 
After the storm, wicked thoughts.

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

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