The sunken healer ( A sonnet by pagan1234@hotmail.com ) ----=-==-====-==-=---- Those fools shriek at the wise priest still. Did I so soon resemble the martyr..? Through it all the misunderstood victim feasts on their bat, excruciatingly... The hostile priest above the razor weeps , yet still my memories seethe towering above my King. Have those wet flowers hid the orgasmic razors? Has the desert hiding behind the priestess cowering before a gothtastic rock feared the snowflakes..? The dragon far beyond the Queen searching for a sensual thunderbolt is undivided. The sea dreaming of a lush meadow is flowing from a King of stillness. Not what you thought; a sinuous teacher outlasts their brother of woe. My serpent flowing from a chaotic thorn is bursting forth from the rainbow! Look again, though -- my rock infests a temple towering above a exquisite priest, piteously. I disintegrate inside the stillness! You forget the dream, smilingly. Has my lovely King reclaimed their demons? I flutter. In my childhood I was razor-enchanted , yet still in the modern world I am as mysterious as their saints.
Original URL: jbrowse.com (has been defunct for some time)
Wayback Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.