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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. @¨@¨¨@¨¨@@
¨¨@¨@@@@@@ @@@@¨@@¨@¨
¨¨@@@¨¨¨¨¨ 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. ¨@@¨¨@@¨@@
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@@¨¨@@¨¨@@ I THINK OF THE JACKDAW I MAIMED ¨@@@@@@@¨@
¨¨@¨@¨@¨@¨ YESTERDAY. I FEAR THE DREAMING GATE. @@¨¨¨¨¨¨@@
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