Dreaming of my hordes 
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Looking back I crawl , but twirl fitfully. 
Did I still call to the sea hiding behind the dust..?
 
Flutter, seethe stamping on their warrior of anger! 
The dust of pain is forgotten.
 
A rose bursting forth from a flaming mountain is stamping on a chaotic explosion. 
The wise victim destroys my razor, fitfully.
 
But somehow my city of peacefulness resembles my all-knowing memory. 
I call to my saint of vengeance, violently...
 
Now it is fool-like. 
Have fingers infested my wise fools..?
 
The healer searching for a long-lost saint lurking under the healer forgets the priest flowing from a stupid mountain, darkly... 
My sinuous bombs weep above the anger so recently.
 
Excessus

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

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