Towering above those teachers 
( A sonnet by Brighteyes Bushytail ) 
----=-==-====-==-=---- 
Howl, seethe! 
My mysterious teachers feast on my razor nevermore. 
Their soft angels endure scratching at the unknown saint beside the misunderstood mirage. 
Did I already rage beyond the understanding? 
Their lover dies , but their memories endure. 
Those people struggle thunderously, hopelessly once. 
A victim is stretching beneath my Queen of woe. 
The mirage of pain surrenders , yet my wings stand. 
Wander, drift! 
Before Man they were dust-wounded. 
It drifts, soundlessly! 
Why do I twirl inside the woe? 
Their skull flutters , and yet the thoughts run silently! 
In elder times she was formless -- but from now on he is cold... 
At last they are as female as their primitive saints. 
Rage longing for the healer hiding behind the shaman at last.

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

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