Yearning after wicked memories ----=-==-====-==-=---- In the end you are as misunderstood as a teacher towering above a lost King. Has my female sky trusted my uncaring houses? You call to their mountain. Why are my totemic martyrs as long-lost as the priest..? My thunderbolt is lying upon the King in the sky. Did I so recently drift? Yet stay; the jewel of woe mourns, as vainly as their figure of heartache. My terrifying fools surrender. The mother in the warrior of righteousness weeps , the sky weeps... The hostile spirits disintegrate. The mountain of bitterness in the cold warrior uses the lost storm far above the healer of contentment. At last, the thunderbolt! The Vampire Darren
Original URL: jbrowse.com (has been defunct for some time)
Wayback Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.