Healed comforting claws ( A sonnet by Fangworthy The Wolfboy ) ----=-==-====-==-=---- The thorn dying beside a grim poison resembles me. A victim lying upon a helpless dust exploits me... Mourn reaching above their grass, slumber! Long, long ago I was remembered. For what reason are the persecutors stupid? Why, why do I plot fitfully? Did I already run stretching beyond their desert? And yet the misunderstood desert struggles... I seethe wildly. A razor attacks me. And why are their knives as gothtastic as those demons? Look again, though -- their sand dying beside a deadly temple exploits the abandoned dust. Have their lost ravings feasted on the forbidding flowers..? Their houses exploit my priest of loneliness still. You call to the desolate meadow, silently. When all's done, riches crawl longing for an unknown temple, hopelessly.
Original URL: jbrowse.com (has been defunct for some time)
Wayback Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.