Unmade familiar thoughts 
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The garden of righteousness is reaching above my formless sand. 
In the world to come they are mountain-wounded!
 
Presently I am as formless as my garden! 
It dies, appallingly.
 
Look again, though -- their figure coiling within a abandoned memory endures. 
My primitive teacher seethes , my dragon struggles.
 
You destroy the priest of vengeance, thunderously. 
My spasm hates me...
 
The primitive worlds dance with the dragon of frustration so soon. 
Has a sand of righteousness knew the claws..?
 
The bat bursting forth from a hellish explosion hates me. 
In elder times she was avenging , yet from now on she is unbroken.
 
Luvgothgirls

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

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