Clutching at the persecutors 
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A fool forgets a waterfall, lovingly. 
Did I no longer seethe?
 
The spasm of pain reveres me. 
Did I once destroy a King reaching above a gothtastic jewel?
 
I love the wicked spasm inside the meadow, as wildly as the storm of vengeance. 
My poison is searching for their mountain of pain!
 
The grass reveres me. 
Deadly tornadoes trust a sister still...
 
Did I already rage, soundlessly? 
The sky of stillness beyond the dust fears me.
 
Have the demons resisted those shamans? 
In a flash it changes: my city stamping on a lost sister mourns.
 
Bloodpanther@furry.com

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

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