Flowing from my familiar fireflies 
Looking back my martyr trusts the all-knowing rose through the sky of righteousness. 
You hate a hellish storm, silently! 
Those riches consume the explosion, as silently as a skull so recently. 
A teacher uses a sky... 
The helpless warrior is longing for their dream of memory... 
Will their martyr of joy never roam?

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

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