†\~:,,,,,,                                          ,,,,,,:~\†
£†\~:,,,,,                                          ,,,,,:~\†£
&£†\~:,,,,                                          ,,,,:~\†£&
@&£†\~:,,,                                          ,,,:~\†£&@
#@&£†\~:,,                                          ,,:~\†£&@#
##@&£†\~:, 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.   ,,,,:~\†£&
£†\~:,,,,,                                          ,,,,,:~\†£
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