,,»=%%@£## ##£@%%=»,,
,,»=%%@£## ##£@%%=»,,
,,»=%%@£## ##£@%%=»,,
,,»=%%@£## ##£@%%=»,,
,,»=%%@£## ##£@%%=»,,
,,,,=%%@@# 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. ##£@%%=»,,
,,,,,,»%@# #@%»,,,,,,
,,»=%%@£## ##£@%%=»,,
,,,,,,,=%@ @%=,,,,,,,
,,»=%%@£## ##£@%%=»,,
,,»=====%£ £%=====»,,