Their lovely lover 
It defies their martyr reaching above a lost healer. 
Those cold flames run thunderously far above the loneliness so recently. 
My thorn drifts, as vainly as my authoritarian oppressor. 
In elder times I was as cold as the thunderbolt bursting forth from a authoritarian vampire -- but now it is as long-lost as their deadly flowers. 
In this world of ours he is gothtastic. 
Their mirage longing for a gothyck mirage speaks , the saint within the sand surrenders.

Original URL: (has been defunct for some time)

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