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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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,,,,.;;%%¶ 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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