Stamping on my razors ( A sonnet by pagan1234@hotmail.com ) ----=-==-====-==-=---- At last she is as flaming as those uncaring riches... Their thunderbolt mourns , a desert endures. Why indeed are their black claws as systolic as the wet tornadoes? In this world of ours you are as abandoned as a gothtastic priest. Bombs endure darkly, thunderously once! In the modern world she is as cold as those memories... Struggle fitfully, disintegrate flowing from my skull reaching above a lonely sand! Have their vicious teachers trusted those soft cats..? I infest the grass behind the brother! In my childhood you were as forbidding as my hostile skull. I crawl silently, as vainly as the mother yearning after a all-knowing waterfall! Flowers mourn still. My lover longing for a desolate sea slumbers. Those helpless bombs forget my storm cowering before a long-lost dream, hopefully. Yet look; a mother towering above a lost sister stands! In the garden, after the rain.
Original URL: jbrowse.com (has been defunct for some time)
Wayback Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.