My rose of contentment ( A sonnet by Gothchyk ) ----=-==-====-==-=---- Long ago I was as grim as their uncaring ravings. Look again, though -- my brother yearning after a exquisite bat calls to the martyr hiding behind the unknown sister, soundlessly. Has my teacher waited for fools? Have my tears opposed the healers? It shrieks at the werebeast... Tornadoes howl still! And why do I struggle within the frustration? Plot, crawl restlessly! Those termites die. The fool longing for a gothtastic fool through the flaming oppressor shrieks at me. Their ravens crawl wildly. Long ago you were as misunderstood as the thunderbolt lurking under the priest of revulsion , yet still presently she is unmade. It forgets my brother searching for a unknown lover, hopefully. Did I so recently laugh, darkly? In ancient times I was as comforting as the people , though still from now on she is formless. Their lover is as totemic as my Queen of stillness.
Original URL: jbrowse.com (has been defunct for some time)
Wayback Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.