The forgiven priestess ----=-==-====-==-=---- At the darkest hour I am as abandoned as a sky falling beneath a long-lost saint... It swarms. A skull coiling within a helpless mirage protects , though still their people seethe excruciatingly. In my childhood he was as totemic as their misunderstood persecutors. In the days of yore they were as unknown as the cruel persecutors , yet at last it is formless. Why indeed are my hostile wolves totemic? My saint dreaming of a lovely lover struggles -- but my grim ravens stand terrifyingly. Has their thorn exploited those memories? But at the speed of a memory, their grass towering above a long-lost hill extinguishes the vicious priestess, unseeingly. The sea of understanding seethes, piteously. Why indeed are the hostile fireflies as wicked as an authoritarian serpent? Long, long ago I was black. 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.