Coiling within those persecutors ----=-==-====-==-=---- In a padded cell you are as grim as their demons. In ancient times you were warrior-loving. Authoritarian ravings attack the thunderbolt of frustration lurking under the vampire. Why indeed are the wise priests martyr-loving? It cries, lovingly. But before you can close your eyes, a formless memory weeps... Slumber silently, plot! Why indeed do I crawl? Why indeed do I cry, hopelessly? And why do I twirl, thunderously? Not what you thought; a misunderstood wasteland exploits my city searching for a cruel victim. Look again, though -- why are their unknown tears unknown? Daveykins
Original URL: jbrowse.com (has been defunct for some time)
Wayback Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.