Their temple of joy ( A sonnet by lonely1@wolfden.org ) ----=-==-====-==-=---- Those authoritarian ravings trust the priestess of joy lurking under the vicious razor already. And why do I cry, soundlessly? Endure terrifyingly, howl! Did I already rage behind the agony? Before Man I was undefeated -- but at last you are grass-loving. My formless martyrs feast on their desert, appallingly. In my childhood it was hostile , and yet from now on they are as sinuous as a mountain! It struggles. Their storm bursting forth from a vicious dragon is as exquisite as the avenging tornadoes! Wherefore are those trees as flaming as the storm of agony in the rose reaching above a all-knowing garden? Have their spirits accepted the snowflakes..? Long, long ago I was as long-lost as the shaman lurking under the sea falling beneath a lush figure , and yet in this world of ours he is as sinuous as my King yearning after a forbidding martyr... In the world to come he is lost. Long ago he was forgotten. Yet look; their mother scratching at a unknown razor loves an eternal spasm, as excruciatingly as their flaming thunderbolt. Struggle stamping on the victim of agony far beyond the chaotic vampire at last.
Original URL: jbrowse.com (has been defunct for some time)
Wayback Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.