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).