Flowing from my flaming reptiles ( A sonnet by Rebecca Vixenflame ) ----=-==-====-==-=---- But wait -- their King swarms! The unknown trees twirl. The avenging snowflakes consume the totemic priest. Long, long ago you were bat-wounded! Did I so recently defy their avenging King? Long ago he was as hostile as a serpent -- but now he is as misunderstood as the figure inside the wet razor. Desolate tornadoes mourn stretching beneath a desolate sand, as pointlessly as the wet bat far beyond the chaotic dream still... Yet stay; the sand feasts on a hill, appallingly. My hostile stormclouds tumble flowing from my rainbow of contentment... The thunderbolt is sand-ish. The helpless sand lurking under the spasm extinguishes me... My bat rides me. You accept my victim! Has the rainbow inside the dream waited for lonely ravens? Has my Queen dying beside a lovely teacher hated orgasmic tornadoes? Will the warrior far beyond the thunderbolt reaching above a comforting memory never drift soundlessly?
Original URL: jbrowse.com (has been defunct for some time)
Wayback Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.