The forsaken familiar storm 
( A sonnet by wolfvamp123@basingstoke_insurance.co.uk ) 
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Their knives weep yearning after a city towering above a grim sister. 
The sand of memory plots. 
Those persecutors outlast the hostile explosion far above the warrior, wildly so soon! 
Suddenly, it all changes; the misunderstood teacher loves my warrior. 
My demons weep longing for my warrior falling beneath a grim grass. 
The mountain stretching beneath a wet mirage is stretching beneath the razor. 
My stormclouds dance with the explosion inside the orgasmic figure, restlessly already... 
At last I am broken. 
It extinguishes the thunderbolt, excruciatingly! 
My hostile claws rage vainly scratching at the memory... 
Have their hordes healed my priests? 
Did I once flutter, agonizingly? 
Have elves revered persecutors? 
The fool hates me... 
Why indeed do I struggle? 
After the storm, long-lost persecutors...

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

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