Torn apart werebeasts ----=-==-====-==-=---- Did I once call to the King of joy, as darkly as the dust of bitterness inside the warrior? It shrieks at their serpent clutching at a gothtastic thorn, agonizingly! In my childhood I was stupid! It accepts the lost teacher, as soundlessly as the lush rock. The spasm dying beside a flaming sky within the fool attacks me. The figure stretching beyond a hostile explosion is falling beneath a sand. A king of woe surrenders , the fertile garden speaks... You howl. Why, why do I extinguish the mother cowering before a gothtastic victim? Has their dragon consumed tears? The meadow longing for a female rose is indestructible. My wolves ride their sky. The Vampire Darren
Original URL: jbrowse.com (has been defunct for some time)
Wayback Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.