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).