alvar west coast          
                                        
                                          
 going  south  by  the rocky  shore.  the 
     montaneous shore, the cliffs and     
     ravines, and the oceans raving.      
                                          
 watch your step or, or  your  wheels, if 
 youre  such  a  being,  for to the  west 
 lies  the  sea.  and  to  the  east  are 
 thorny bushes, large as  trees but  also 
   miniscule, camouflaged in the grass.   
                                          
     old territories poke through and     
 resurface. never  mind them,  but  maybe 
 the  beauty  in  their   walls  tell  us 
 something. i admire  the way they strech 
 over  the land to  the  eastern  shores, 
      but never north, never south.       
                                          
 the road is old  and  broken, and  would 
 stress your joints, even if  you were to 
 never  leave  it  (which  you   should).