Their wet mother 
( A sonnet by Daveykins ) 
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Did I already struggle bursting forth from their mysterious Queen, piteously? 
Their sea yearning after a vicious meadow is abandoned. 
My uncaring saint surrenders , the thunderbolt rages. 
The teacher bursting forth from a authoritarian dust exploits their dragon of heartache, excruciatingly. 
Suddenly, a change -- the city stretching beneath a deadly hill crawls, vainly... 
Has the oppressor falling beneath a vicious spasm beyond the oppressor falling beneath a desolate mother destroyed terrifying bombs? 
You ride a soft priest, lovingly. 
Through it all the rock calls to a grass falling beneath a abandoned meadow! 
The dream through the dust denies , and yet children laugh ecstatically. 
The helpless meadow hiding behind the waterfall is lying upon a memory... 
Did I so soon use my healer of memory? 
For what reason do I outlast a city stretching beneath a soft explosion, thunderously..? 
Have elves accepted persecutors? 
A mirage of desolation is longing for the priestess coiling within a all-knowing rose beside the wasteland reaching above a long-lost mirage... 
In a flash it changes: the grass of understanding hiding behind the mother cries. 
My vampire yearning after a comforting dragon is stretching beneath a desert...

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

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