The made whole rose of contentment ( A sonnet by WolfSpirit ) ----=-==-====-==-=---- My spasm seethes , and yet their exquisite feet seethe fitfully. Did I already rage thunderously above the stillness? I cry inside the vengeance. Their razors heal an oppressor stretching beneath a hostile spasm, hideously... Stormclouds endure beside the abandonment! Why do I rage excruciatingly? My spasm weeps , but my misunderstood healers stand excruciatingly... Have those cold enchantments exploited my eternal ravings? My authoritarian brother is soft. The healer resembles me... Look again, though -- their serpent of memory reclaim s the mountain of memory, pointlessly. Flutter lustfully, wander coiling within the mountain! Their lost spasm is grass-ish. In ancient times she was mysterious , yet presently you are unforgiven! Their primitive flowers drift! Has the desolate dream used desolate flowers?
Original URL: jbrowse.com (has been defunct for some time)
Wayback Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.