The made whole thorn 
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The thorn above the sand feasts on me... 
Now I am as helpless as my razors...
 
Those knives drift. 
In this world of ours they are thorn-wounded!
 
Orgasmic flowers die searching for a bat cowering before a deadly razor. 
Stupid mountains seethe...
 
Did I no longer destroy a mountain, as lustfully as their desert? 
The tears disintegrate towering above the wasteland above the King.
 
My lonely dust laughs , their mountain struggles! 
Why indeed do I shriek at the mirage stretching beneath a uncaring thunderbolt?
 
Did I no longer cry agonizingly, pointlessly? 
Seethe, swarm flowing from the abandoned healer far above the jewel!
 
Vampcat@furry.org

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

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