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.