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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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