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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.      £#%§=~,¨¨¨
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¨¨¨¨¨,~=§% I  THINK   OF   THE   JACKDAW  I  MAIMED %§=~,¨¨¨¨¨
¨¨¨¨¨¨,~=§   YESTERDAY. I FEAR THE DREAMING GATE.   §=~,¨¨¨¨¨¨
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