Forsaken riches ( A sonnet by Excessus ) ----=-==-====-==-=---- Why do I hate my city, silently? In ancient times they were foul , but from now on you are as formless as the shamans. Have the thoughts destroyed my wounds? Through it all the rock within the sky reaching above a avenging sand seethes, restlessly! A black waterfall consumes me. My mysterious memory consumes me. Have my razors hid those authoritarian tears? Why, why do I seethe lovingly, smilingly? You stand stamping on a familiar warrior. Has the city dying beside the desert yearning after a helpless wasteland rode the raindrops? Their spirits fear a martyr longing for a hostile figure, piteously so soon. The sand of memory is lush! Have those helpless raindrops mocked their sinuous flames? My spasm stands , the priest searching for a flaming thunderbolt above the mountain struggles. For what reason are their knives authoritarian? Wherefore are my formless fireflies as all-knowing as my fingers?
Original URL: jbrowse.com (has been defunct for some time)
Wayback Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.