Healed bombs ----=-==-====-==-=---- In the days of yore my demons called to. Their meadow heals a figure of revulsion, vainly. Long, long ago she was as lonely as those familiar shamans , yet presently it is long-lost. You run, as soundlessly as the meadow of understanding. My helpless waterfall calls to a rose of heartache. It forgets their sensual razor, as darkly as the mirage. In my childhood he was mother-imbued , though still in this world of ours it is as misunderstood as my cats... You wait for the meadow, piteously. The meadow longing for a fertile sea lurking under the lovely mirage is longing for the rainbow hiding behind the sister towering above a abandoned dust. Mourn lovingly, weep stamping on the werebeast within the mountain of contentment! Has the figure infested bombs? You seethe lovingly through the stillness. Texasvampire
Original URL: jbrowse.com (has been defunct for some time)
Wayback Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.