The unmade lovely sister
The mirage of memory crawls.
The healer reclaim s me.
I destroy my warrior.
Have their persecutors healed the tears..?
In the days of yore I was as cold as the vicious figure lurking under the orgasmic garden...
Before Man he was shattered -- but from now on I am broken...
Their lover of joy is as orgasmic as hordes.
My brother hates their spasm of revulsion.
Have gothyck bombs opposed their unknown warriors?
Their fool mourns , my teacher menaces.
Their skull cries -- but those unknown hordes howl violently!
Has their hellish spasm extinguished my helpless stormclouds?
for the original code. The online version available there has been throwing
a 500 for some time now, hence this page.