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#&&*-¨¨¨¨¨ 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. ¨-~**&##
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###&&**~-¨ 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. ¨-~**&##
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###&&**~-¨ 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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#&*-¨¨¨¨¨¨ ¨¨¨¨¨¨-*
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