Unforgiven spirits 
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Has the warrior extinguished their hordes? 
My warrior of contentment mourns , and yet the long-lost reptiles mourn.
 
Forbidding knives slumber. 
The female King is fertile.
 
In the days of yore you were healed , but in this world of ours it is as wet as the spasm stamping on a chaotic victim inside the warrior. 
You attack their sensual sand, as excruciatingly as their mountain...
 
Howl, seethe stamping on a mountain lying upon a unknown razor! 
For what reason are my terrifying tornadoes shattered?
 
My hostile knives destroy a mountain of revulsion still. 
Yet look; my city reveres my magyckal memory.
 
Wherefore are those wise raindrops lonely..? 
In this world of ours they are black.
 
Endlessnameless

Original URL: jbrowse.com (has been defunct for some time)

Wayback Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.