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¨:-;^£§@## I FOLLOW THE TIRE TRACKS  WEST.  THEY GO ##@§£^;-:¨
¨¨:-;^£§@# PARALLEL  WITH  THE  RAILROAD, WITH  ITS #@§£^;-:¨¨
¨¨¨:-;^£§@ ENDLESS  MIRRORS LOOKING  KINDA OILY. AN @§£^;-:¨¨¨
¨¨:-;^£§@#  INCREDIBLE POWER BOUND THERE... THERE'S #@§£^;-:¨¨
¨:-;^£§@## A WIRE FENCE TO SEPARATE  THE TWO ROADS. ##@§£^;-:¨
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¨¨¨:-;^£§@ EVEN  THOUGH THERE'S A FOGGY  QUALITY TO @§£^;-:¨¨¨
¨¨:-;^£§@# THE AIR,  THE  PATH I FOLLOW IS GLOWING. #@§£^;-:¨¨
¨:-;^£§@## A   YELLOW-GREEN  MOSS  HAS  TAKEN  HOLD ##@§£^;-:¨
¨¨:-;^£§@# WHERE  THE  MACHINES  WHO   MADE   THESE #@§£^;-:¨¨
¨¨¨:-;^£§@ TRACKS ONCE DISTURBED THE  CLOVER FIELD. @§£^;-:¨¨¨
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¨:-;^£§@## WE'RE  OFF  THE  SEASON  WHEN THE  BIRDS ##@§£^;-:¨
¨¨:-;^£§@# SING  BEAUTIFULLY.  THESE DAYS IT'S JUST #@§£^;-:¨¨
¨¨¨:-;^£§@       SCREECHES, OR CALLS FOR HELP.      @§£^;-:¨¨¨
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¨:-;^£§@## I   THINK  OF   THE   JACKDAW  I  MAIMED ##@§£^;-:¨
¨¨:-;^£§@#   YESTERDAY. I FEAR THE DREAMING GATE.   #@§£^;-:¨¨
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