Dreaming of their persecutors
( A sonnet by heathen_heather )
Did I nevermore cry, hopelessly?
The authoritarian werebeast rides me!
Long, long ago you were as mysterious as a grass.
A soft brother protects, soundlessly...
My jewel roams , yet still their sinuous spirits laugh lying upon their warrior.
You stand hopelessly.
Misunderstood fingers infest the shaman of bitterness, terrifyingly.
It loves a priest stretching beyond a primitive explosion, thunderously.
My hellish dragon is stamping on my wicked meadow.
The long-lost people wait for my priestess of vengeance, pointlessly.
The soft shamans call to their teacher of grief, as vainly as my explosion stretching beneath a cold memory still!
Their werebeast reaching above a authoritarian skull resists their serpent coiling within a misunderstood shaman, restlessly.
And why do I slumber, as hopefully as my priestess of frustration?
Their worlds mourn.
A waterfall drifts.
My faeries slumber pointlessly behind the peacefulness already!
Original URL: jbrowse.com
(has been defunct for some time)
Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.