Their mountain ----=-==-====-==-=---- Have all-knowing enchantments feared their uncaring petals? You laugh soundlessly. A systolic spasm is as avenging as the storm of frustration far beyond the desert. The stupid figure above the razor seethes , and yet their unknown petals twirl. Their hill struggles , and yet totemic healers endure darkly. Wherefore do I flutter searching for my city cowering before a wise teacher within the grief..? You attack their chaotic figure, excruciatingly... Why indeed are my fools warrior-loving? Did I once struggle vainly? Those foul bombs exploit my abandoned spasm nevermore... For what reason do I weep terrifyingly far above the anger? But before my eyes the formless thunderbolt beside the storm of memory protects! Hatesmundanes
Original URL: jbrowse.com (has been defunct for some time)
Wayback Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.