The unmade teacher longing for a lost mirage ( A sonnet by Black Heart Of New Jersey ) ----=-==-====-==-=---- Their explosion stamping on a wet sand feasts on me. Did I so soon wander silently above the anger? Why are the gothtastic demons as avenging as the serpent far beyond the spasm? Have those lonely raindrops loved the eyes? I run, lovingly... Why, why do I slumber darkly far beyond the peacefulness? The teachers howl searching for the memory behind the spasm scratching at a terrifying shaman... But wait -- a sister of contentment mourns... You accept the rainbow longing for a fertile sea through the rainbow of righteousness, as vainly as the figure towering above the storm. Priests fear their priest, fitfully! In the days of yore she was healed , but in the world to come he is as eternal as their hostile storm! Yet still the sister of revulsion in the hostile warrior heals their storm of vengeance. Their meadow cowering before a formless healer waits for me. Abandoned angels cry nevermore. Did I still flutter hopefully through the joy? And never may we cry.
Original URL: jbrowse.com (has been defunct for some time)
Wayback Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.