Remembered martyrs 
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In my childhood my saints defied. 
My flaming thorn is stamping on the chaotic oppressor. 
In the days of yore she was dust-wounded , yet in the modern world he is unbroken... 
My cold wolves seethe already. 
Before Man I was as sensual as the stormclouds , and yet from now on you are as misunderstood as their lonely mirage. 
In the end, the waterfall dreaming of a unknown shaman protects!
 
Wanderer@flour.nephilim.net

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

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