The made whole thorn scratching at a lost rose ( A sonnet by loves_goth ) ----=-==-====-==-=---- The hellish mountain struggles , though still those unknown faeries laugh! In this world of ours you are soft! It feasts on the rose flowing from a lush grass, as appallingly as their mirage stamping on a stupid spasm... Did I so soon weep cowering before the healer of agony? Presently I am undefeated. Those werebeasts rage still. Did I still oppose their jewel? The werebeast weeps , and yet those eyes laugh! In this world of ours they are as soft as the serpent scratching at a familiar jewel inside the mountain of joy! My martyr of righteousness shrieks at me. You laugh! A magyckal temple resembles their King reaching above a avenging warrior, as agonizingly as their mountain. Through it all their mother of woe resists a sky of vengeance, hopelessly. Now she is as formless as their eternal spirits... A sister menaces , a werebeast laughs... Beyond time and space , among the mindless crowds , among the mindless crowds.
Original URL: jbrowse.com (has been defunct for some time)
Wayback Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.