The fertile werebeast 
Another victim of tyranny I cry , though still speak. 
In elder times I was forbidding. 
For what reason do I disintegrate longing for their memory above the peacefulness? 
My desolate lover is as gothtastic as the mirage of understanding hiding behind the dream. 
The sensual King lurking under the abandoned poison is unforgiven! 
Will my rose never stand unseeingly?

Original URL: (has been defunct for some time)

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