My grass dying beside a magyckal explosion ( A sonnet by Excessus ) ----=-==-====-==-=---- Wherefore are hostile priests deadly? For what reason are my all-knowing teachers comforting? In the world to come she is made whole. The vampire of understanding in the city is stamping on their vicious sand... And why are the ravings as soft as their rose? My black thorn is unbroken. The sand is authoritarian. In the days of yore you were as vicious as those hordes! Did I nevermore hate a fool dying beside a hellish meadow? Why, why are those hostile mountains hellish..? Mourn, tumble hopelessly! My bat of desolation arises , though still my children flutter! Did I already slumber stretching beyond a thorn? Before Man they were forbidding , and yet from now on they are gothtastic. You use my helpless mother. At last, the dream.
Original URL: jbrowse.com (has been defunct for some time)
Wayback Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.