,,,,.~:§%@                                          @%§:~.,,,,
,,,,,.~:§%                                          %§:~.,,,,,
,,,,,,.~:§                                          §:~.,,,,,,
,,,,,.~:§%                                          %§:~.,,,,,
,,,,.~:§%@                                          @%§:~.,,,,
,,,.~:§%@# 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. #@%§:~.,,,
,,,,.~:§%@                                          @%§:~.,,,,
,,,,,.~:§% 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. #@%§:~.,,,
,,.~:§%@##                                          ##@%§:~.,,
,.~:§%@### We'Re  Off  The  Season  When  The Birds ###@%§:~.,
,,.~:§%@## Sing Beautifully. These  Days It'S  Just ##@%§:~.,,
,,,.~:§%@#       Screeches, Or Calls For Help.      #@%§:~.,,,
,,,,.~:§%@                                          @%§:~.,,,,
,,,,,.~:§% I   Think  Of  The   Jackdaw  I   Maimed %§:~.,,,,,
,,,,,,.~:§   Yesterday. I Fear The Dreaming gate.   §:~.,,,,,,
,,,,,.~:§%                                          %§:~.,,,,,
,,,,.~:§%@                                          @%§:~.,,,,
,,,.~:§%@#                                          #@%§:~.,,,
,,.~:§%@##                                          ##@%§:~.,,
,.~:§%@###                                          ###@%§:~.,