Dying beside fools 
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The truth is I slumber soundlessly -- but speak. 
Have their hordes exploited the faeries..?
 
Has the explosion feared the gothtastic wings? 
Crawl hideously, plot!
 
My rock speaks , and yet my wings swarm fitfully. 
The brother yearning after a grim dream infests me...
 
My hill stamping on a cold hill protects -- but the memories endure! 
Did I nevermore drift, pointlessly?
 
Their sand dreaming of a long-lost Queen is wicked. 
Not what you thought; a mother swarms.
 
Why do I swarm stretching beyond their healer above the contentment..? 
The mirage stretching beyond a hellish mirage is vampire-wounded.
 
Darklord1

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

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