Looming above those knives 
( A sonnet by Brad WyrdWulff ) 
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Their teachers crawl, as excruciatingly as their thunderbolt longing for a chaotic razor! 
The bat far beyond the rainbow menaces -- but the wings laugh. 
Why do I call to their spasm, pointlessly? 
Speak hopelessly, weep longing for their vampire falling beneath a orgasmic waterfall! 
In this world of ours she is as hellish as the foul martyrs. 
Has the lover dreaming of a formless meadow beside the city of contentment attacked magyckal wounds? 
At last you are unforgiven. 
Flowers seethe... 
Have those wicked houses extinguished shamans? 
I defy their meadow of understanding, lustfully. 
My lover yearning after a long-lost sky discovers me. 
Why do I slumber pointlessly, vainly? 
Wherefore do I cry, piteously? 
Suddenly, a change -- the sister through the saint of contentment accepts the waterfall. 
The magyckal claws use my garden dreaming of a sensual figure. 
Will the avenging waterfall never tumble soundlessly?

Original URL: jbrowse.com (has been defunct for some time)

Wayback Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.