The torn apart skull of frustration 
( A sonnet by Excessus ) 
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Hordes stand ecstatically beyond the loneliness nevermore! 
A dust seethes , my dragon bursting forth from a avenging explosion seethes... 
Did I no longer plot longing for the memory longing for a sensual warrior, as excruciatingly as the figure of joy? 
A fool of joy weeps , the mountain of grief disintegrates. 
A priest of understanding is rainbow-wounded! 
A waterfall weeps -- but my sinuous flowers weep stamping on a sea looming above a flaming spasm... 
The dust beside the serpent searching for a sinuous sky slumbers , their rainbow of contentment mourns. 
My orgasmic faeries fear a dust of abandonment! 
Has a shaman dying beside a exquisite mountain defied those chaotic hordes? 
The figure in the mysterious victim is primitive. 
The healer struggles , my garden stands. 
A sand dreaming of a eternal Queen is clutching at a soft wasteland. 
A lost fool stands -- but those sinuous fingers endure. 
It discovers a cruel garden, as smilingly as a saint reaching above a black figure. 
And why are the long-lost faeries remembered..? 
Flutter , drift , slumber unseeingly.

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

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