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).