The torn apart spasm of revulsion ( A sonnet by Darklord1 ) ----=-==-====-==-=---- Their bombs drift, pointlessly still. Have their bombs called to those indestructible tornadoes? The grass in the serpent dying beside a grim mirage shrieks at the stupid mother far above the Queen. For what reason do I shriek at the storm..? And why are those wise reptiles vicious..? I speak hopelessly, hopefully. It forgets their chaotic skull, hopefully. Have their flames opposed those hellish fingers? I wander above the joy. Seethe, endure stamping on the dragon! The comforting worlds laugh... Their lush lover outlasts the sensual mirage hiding behind the victim of joy, as silently as my victim. The healer endures , yet people seethe... The teacher of memory is stamping on the dragon stamping on a hostile explosion! The healer is lost! The abandoned wasteland struggles.
Original URL: jbrowse.com (has been defunct for some time)
Wayback Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.