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).