...^~==§§¶ ¶§§==~^...
..^~==§§¶# #¶§§==~^..
.^~==§§¶## ##¶§§==~^.
..^~==§§¶# #¶§§==~^..
...^~==§§¶ ¶§§==~^...
....^~==§§ I FOLLOW THE TIRE TRACKS WEST. THEY GO §§==~^....
...^~==§§¶ PARALLEL WITH THE RAILROAD, WITH ITS ¶§§==~^...
..^~==§§¶# ENDLESS MIRRORS LOOKING KINDA OILY. AN #¶§§==~^..
.^~==§§¶## INCREDIBLE POWER BOUND THERE... THERE'S ##¶§§==~^.
..^~==§§¶# A WIRE FENCE TO SEPARATE THE TWO ROADS. #¶§§==~^..
...^~==§§¶ ¶§§==~^...
....^~==§§ EVEN THOUGH THERE'S A FOGGY QUALITY TO §§==~^....
...^~==§§¶ THE AIR, THE PATH I FOLLOW IS GLOWING. ¶§§==~^...
..^~==§§¶# A YELLOW-GREEN MOSS HAS TAKEN HOLD #¶§§==~^..
.^~==§§¶## WHERE THE MACHINES WHO MADE THESE ##¶§§==~^.
..^~==§§¶# TRACKS ONCE DISTURBED THE CLOVER FIELD. #¶§§==~^..
...^~==§§¶ ¶§§==~^...
....^~==§§ WE'RE OFF THE SEASON WHEN THE BIRDS §§==~^....
...^~==§§¶ SING BEAUTIFULLY. THESE DAYS IT'S JUST ¶§§==~^...
..^~==§§¶# SCREECHES, OR CALLS FOR HELP. #¶§§==~^..
.^~==§§¶## ##¶§§==~^.
..^~==§§¶# I THINK OF THE JACKDAW I MAIMED #¶§§==~^..
...^~==§§¶ YESTERDAY. I FEAR THE DREAMING GATE. ¶§§==~^...
....^~==§§ §§==~^....
...^~==§§¶ ¶§§==~^...
..^~==§§¶# #¶§§==~^..
.^~==§§¶## ##¶§§==~^.
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