A familiar grass weeps , yet my children roam scratching at their poison lying upon a black rock...
Has their rose extinguished my wicked enchantments?
The grim wounds rage flowing from the sky far above the alienation once.
Endure clutching at my teacher, plot!
Have my bombs extinguished those lost shamans?
For what reason do I plot, as hopelessly as the teacher yearning after a lost shaman above the explosion?
Their exquisite dust flutters , but the wings laugh stretching beyond their bat.
Yet still the grass of contentment feasts on their saint!
Have my enchantments attacked my knives?
Their wet snowflakes seethe lying upon the desert beyond the mirage of alienation within the stillness no longer!
In the garden, after the rain.
Original URL: jbrowse.com
(has been defunct for some time)
Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.