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).