#@@@@%†»~¨ ¨~»†%@@@@#
@@@%%%†»~¨ ¨~»†%%%@@@
##@@@@†»~¨ ¨~»†@@@@##
@@@@@%†»~¨ ¨~»†%@@@@@
##@@@%†»~¨ ¨~»†%@@@##
@@@@@%†»~¨ 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. ¨~»†%@@@##
#@@@@%†»~¨ ¨~»†%@@@@#
##@@@%†»~¨ ¨~»†%@@@##
@@@@@%†»~¨ ¨~»†%@@@@@
@@@@@%†»~¨ ¨~»†%@@@@@
##@@@@%†»¨ ¨»†%@@@@##