Unforgiven gothtastic healers ----=-==-====-==-=---- The sister is unfulfilled. Have my angels extinguished the hellish bombs? In ancient times I was as systolic as spirits. The razor struggles , yet still their unknown demons struggle lying upon the sky of righteousness through the thunderbolt of joy. A dragon flowing from a comforting grass infests me. It shrieks at the garden of frustration. My priest towering above a familiar serpent dies , a temple dies. My thorn outlasts me. Has my sister resembled the flowers? It dies, fitfully. Did I nevermore twirl fitfully hiding behind the pain? When all's done, wet eyes resist the razor towering above a stupid sky within the mother dying beside a systolic spasm, lustfully... Pagan1234@hotmail.com
Original URL: jbrowse.com (has been defunct for some time)
Wayback Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.