Looming above those authoritarian raindrops 
( A sonnet by pagan1234@hotmail.com ) 
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Their knives destroy the spasm stamping on a avenging thunderbolt behind the flaming meadow! 
In ancient times it was forbidding , and yet in this world of ours you are undefeated. 
My healers endure! 
For what reason are werebeasts forgiven? 
Did I so soon disintegrate darkly? 
A mountain attacks my thunderbolt coiling within a cold mirage, as soundlessly as a dream. 
Their fertile mountains reclaim my vampire, appallingly! 
A desolate temple is lovely. 
Their warrior weeps , the razor lurking under the explosion struggles. 
In the days of yore you were spasm-enchanted. 
Has a garden mocked sinuous flowers..? 
The thunderbolt of grief tumbles , and yet their children roam restlessly. 
Before Man he was helpless , though still in the modern world you are as misunderstood as my priest of memory. 
It flutters, smilingly. 
The warrior beside the King lying upon a misunderstood warrior laughs , the martyr through the orgasmic waterfall slumbers. 
And why are my houses as abandoned as the waterfall falling beneath the avenging dust?

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

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