Dying beside their cruel shamans ----=-==-====-==-=---- The truth is I wander fitfully , and yet seethe. Did I nevermore struggle excruciatingly? Those thoughts howl piteously. The flowers mourn... Long, long ago you were as flaming as my elves , but at last I am as black as my trees. The claws revere a martyr, lovingly no longer. Have my fingers shrieked at their priests? Has the King of desolation reclaimed my thoughts? Before Man he was unmade , yet still in the world to come you are made whole. The dust behind the spasm forgets the dragon. I love their oppressor of vengeance, soundlessly... And never may we die. Texasvampire
Original URL: jbrowse.com (has been defunct for some time)
Wayback Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.