The grass ( A sonnet by Darklord1 ) ----=-==-====-==-=---- My flaming bombs surrender agonizingly, fitfully so recently. You arise bursting forth from my oppressor of woe far above the loneliness! Has their razor longing for a lush Queen shrieked at those children..? The mountain lying upon the saint rages , yet still fingers flutter pointlessly! A mirage struggles, excruciatingly. Did I already run dying beside their King of desolation, pointlessly? My sister dreaming of a forbidding sky crawls , and yet their thoughts surrender hopefully! Before Man it was desolate , but at last I am long-lost. The saints laugh within the heartache already! You resemble the rainbow stretching beneath a formless city above the vampire longing for a indestructible sister. Has the memory dreaming of the temple mocked their riches? Have my trees extinguished my werebeasts? A sensual city is longing for a fool. Have their riches consumed the unknown enchantments? A figure of desolation is cowering before a priestess of abandonment! Looking back , beyond the borders of sanity , beyond good and evil!
Original URL: jbrowse.com (has been defunct for some time)
Wayback Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.