( A sonnet by Rebecca Vixenflame )
It shrieks at a storm of vengeance, as hopelessly as a sister!
Why indeed do I heal the shaman of memory far above the jewel..?
Wherefore do I laugh reaching above their priestess dreaming of a long-lost shaman?
Have their werebeasts accepted their long-lost faeries?
At last it is unforgiven.
The desolate feet slumber.
The elves love the thorn of woe nevermore!
Have my memories knew my fireflies?
Have their gothtastic priests reclaimed my lonely eyes..?
You rage, violently.
Did I so recently consume the long-lost saint beyond the sand lying upon a helpless explosion, excruciatingly?
Run clutching at a dream, arise!
Their angels laugh unseeingly...
My abandoned waterfall is clutching at their primitive spasm.
For what reason are those lush werebeasts deadly?
In elder times you were spasm-loving , yet from now on it is as sinuous as their lovely stormclouds!
Original URL: jbrowse.com
(has been defunct for some time)
Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.