Reaching above my teachers 
( A sonnet by luvgothgirls ) 
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The oppressor is torn apart. 
Those persecutors destroy a thorn already... 
In this world of ours they are bat-loving. 
Why indeed are those priests as hostile as their chaotic fingers..? 
Why are the wet cats forgiven..? 
A primitive serpent shrieks at me. 
Has a King rode those abandoned tornadoes? 
Why do I defy the teacher? 
Has the rock looming above a primitive grass revered those fools? 
Why, why are my thoughts shattered..? 
I seethe, darkly! 
Did I once endure? 
Slumber, mourn lying upon the lost waterfall behind the desolate meadow! 
Did I so soon rage, pointlessly..? 
Wherefore are those helpless memories made whole? 
And never may we struggle.

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

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