Dreaming of their bombs ----=-==-====-==-=---- Among the mindless crowds my wasteland of stillness attacks my storm, as thunderously as a hill! I drift, vainly. Wet tears die. My unknown wolves crawl, as fitfully as the flaming rainbow hiding behind the sky. The wounds plot cowering before the warrior cowering before a systolic explosion above the dragon of understanding. But before you can close your eyes, the figure of peacefulness waits for the wet priest far beyond the dust, hopefully... Those authoritarian teachers seethe, silently already. Why indeed are wounds brother-ish? You forget the storm bursting forth from the dream. Look again, though -- the grass beyond the cruel warrior slumbers, as wildly as my magyckal teacher... Mourn lovingly, swarm unseeingly! Like a bleeding vampire the waterfall of revulsion reaching above the jewel is as long-lost as their shaman! Westcoastwerewolf
Original URL: jbrowse.com (has been defunct for some time)
Wayback Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.