,,~\\\%%¶@                                          @¶%%\\\~,,
,,~\%%§¶@#                                          #@¶§%%\~,,
,,~\%%§¶##                                          ##¶§%%\~,,
,,,,,\%§§¶                                          ¶§§%\,,,,,
,,~\%%§¶@#                                          #@¶§%%\~,,
,,~\%%%%%¶ 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.   #@¶§%%\~,,
,,~\%%§¶@#                                          #@¶§%%\~,,
,,,,,\%§¶¶                                          ¶¶§%\,,,,,
,,~\%%§¶@#                                          #@¶§%%\~,,
,,~%%§¶@##                                          ##@¶§%%~,,
,,~\%%§@##                                          ##@§%%\~,,