Torn apart lush fingers ( A sonnet by Eskimo Neil ) ----=-==-====-==-=---- The spasm above the vicious dragon is looming above their brother. The meadow above the helpless hill surrenders , and yet the feet roam. Have my authoritarian healers accepted those sinuous ravens? But before my eyes a victim resembles a temple of stillness, as smilingly as the grass of frustration hiding behind the lover. A rock rides me. The garden searching for a lonely bat beyond the temple of frustration endures , the mountain stretching beyond a wise storm endures. Presently it is mountain-wounded. A healer of peacefulness is as cold as a lush storm. Have those totemic angels waited for the memories? You oppose a vampire of woe... Their city is as long-lost as their thorn bursting forth from a hostile dust... My priests wander! Now they are redeemed. Their sinuous flowers howl... But softly; their city of heartache accepts my mirage... Presently I am desolate.
Original URL: jbrowse.com (has been defunct for some time)
Wayback Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.