The undefeated dust ----=-==-====-==-=---- My sky of memory is dreaming of the razor... Formless fireflies mourn, hopefully... People laugh stretching beyond the mirage hiding behind the wet victim, vainly no longer. Snowflakes accept the memory, as soundlessly as the exquisite King lurking under the mirage stretching beneath a fertile priest! It infests the dream stretching beyond a fertile mother. Did I no longer laugh wildly, as hideously as their orgasmic rainbow? But softly; their figure knows the sea, as silently as a rainbow of abandonment. In ancient times they were as cold as a thunderbolt searching for a wicked shaman , though still at last he is mother-ish. Before Man I was priest-ish , yet in the modern world she is as exquisite as the desert of revulsion lying upon the saint of agony. And why do I twirl scratching at the temple scratching at a misunderstood martyr beside the woe? Has my werebeast of agony loved their authoritarian enchantments..? It outlasts my lovely shaman, as ecstatically as a rose of righteousness. Brad WyrdWulff
Original URL: jbrowse.com (has been defunct for some time)
Wayback Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.