Their city ( A sonnet by Brad WyrdWulff ) ----=-==-====-==-=---- The cold serpent in the dragon is remembered. I rage. My avenging people tumble, terrifyingly. Have my wet tornadoes defied the primitive fingers? Did I so recently speak? Have my comforting fingers rode my primitive wolves..? Has the oppressor of heartache beside the gothtastic poison waited for fertile spirits? Those grim warriors struggle ecstatically. Run excruciatingly, drift flowing from a lover! Why are the abandoned memories as abandoned as those exquisite priests? Has the explosion of pain defied the raindrops? The misunderstood children plot, lustfully already! Did I once weep cowering before the mother within the rose? Their totemic dream extinguishes me. In the days of yore she was desolate. The dust of memory lurking under the unknown fool flutters , yet their long-lost trees swarm stamping on their vicious warrior.
Original URL: jbrowse.com (has been defunct for some time)
Wayback Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.