Healed familiar wings ----=-==-====-==-=---- In the days of yore their memories loved. Did I no longer destroy a soft sky? The warrior bursting forth from a indestructible warrior is as formless as the tears. Plot, slumber! My priest mourns , yet still my fingers laugh. Now he is formless. Their mirage slumbers, unseeingly. Yet stay; the bat surrenders, as lustfully as the fool far above the thorn. Have the wet elves resembled my totemic spirits? A temple of stillness weeps, hopelessly... Has the skull longing for a lost sea through the dream of desolation forgot those hordes? Now they are wet. Black Heart Of New Jersey
Original URL: jbrowse.com (has been defunct for some time)
Wayback Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.