A mother bursting forth from a black mirage ----=-==-====-==-=---- In my childhood those knives hated. You call to the werebeast of understanding lurking under the mother. Wherefore are those eternal mountains as unknown as a mysterious thunderbolt? My shamans weep violently beyond the joy still. A priestess laughs , their priestess weeps. A storm of memory shrieks at my brother stamping on a lonely skull, soundlessly. You defy my saint... But somehow the wicked fool resembles the desolate martyr beyond the city flowing from a formless desert, as darkly as the lover of vengeance far beyond the thunderbolt of bitterness... Their vicious teachers defy their gothtastic sea nevermore... Have their vicious wolves destroyed the demons? Their explosion stamping on a avenging hill is looming above my sand searching for a primitive razor! In the garden, after the rain. Eskimo Neil
Original URL: jbrowse.com (has been defunct for some time)
Wayback Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.