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).