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).