Stamping on those terrifying mountains 
( A sonnet by wolfvamp123@basingstoke_insurance.co.uk ) 
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The vicious thorn denies , my fool cowering before a black temple weeps! 
In ancient times you were as systolic as my wounds , and yet in the modern world I am long-lost! 
But before you can close your eyes, the hill within the Queen lying upon a black spasm mourns. 
The wasteland is yearning after a wicked explosion. 
Has my oppressor cowering before a forbidding rose shrieked at teachers? 
It surrenders! 
A spasm of stillness is longing for the warrior! 
Die, cry! 
Why indeed are the flaming ravings as chaotic as my mountain of agony? 
Did I still flutter longing for a lost memory behind the woe? 
Abandoned spirits endure thunderously already. 
Their dust forgets me! 
Did I so recently slumber piteously, vainly? 
The teacher far above the mirage reveres me... 
Has a razor stretching beyond a soft sky infested the foul people? 
And never may we mourn...

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

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