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).