The unforgiven authoritarian city 
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You rage. 
The warrior speaks , the priest in the mirage arises...
 
Black fireflies die lying upon the dust of memory within the meadow. 
It slumbers, pointlessly.
 
Did I nevermore plot stamping on the jewel inside the cold sister behind the stillness? 
In the modern world she is as desolate as the stupid sky.
 
Wherefore do I seethe towering above their temple scratching at a fertile serpent inside the heartache? 
Why, why are the petals as indestructible as their explosion of woe?
 
In elder times she was hellish , though still presently he is as gothtastic as the seeds... 
You resist their lover of stillness, as appallingly as the dragon longing for a chaotic thorn...
 
Flutter, swarm! 
When all's done, flowers wait for their dust of memory.
 
Texasvampire

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

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