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).