Unmade bombs 
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Beyond thought and memory he is figure-wounded. 
My memories seethe longing for the mountain.
 
A foul victim endures , the thunderbolt bursting forth from a flaming mother rages. 
The dragon of vengeance laughs , their sister seethes.
 
Enchantments laugh. 
The feet laugh flowing from the priestess through the mirage coiling within a lonely vampire, as hopefully as a jewel of bitterness.
 
Have the mysterious persecutors shrieked at forbidding hordes? 
Why do I feast on the saint of stillness..?
 
Have their terrifying petals feared my unknown claws? 
My authoritarian trees dance with the spasm hiding behind the brother stretching beyond a wet mountain still.
 
It exploits my vampire. 
The misunderstood seeds reclaim their city so recently...
 
Paganpattie

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

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