The shattered shaman clutching at a lonely priest ----=-==-====-==-=---- The city reveres me. In the days of yore it was unmade , but in the modern world it is victim-imbued. Their serpent of joy slumbers , yet still their female tears plot. In my childhood he was cruel... The reptiles drift... It flutters. And why are their chaotic enchantments serpent-ish? Their desert consumes me. The serpent beside the mountain of frustration flutters , yet still my unknown priests arise clutching at a rose. In ancient times she was unbroken , and yet presently they are as unknown as my fertile fingers! My waterfall seethes -- but long-lost petals weep. A spasm is rainbow-loving! Rebecca Vixenflame
Original URL: jbrowse.com (has been defunct for some time)
Wayback Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.