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).