A mother deer curls up in her cave, With a fawn resting at her breast. The mother raps her legs around her baby. It sighs comfortably as its eyes slowly close. They move easily and efficiently, Smoothly along the perfectly furnished roads, Unaware of everything, Driving blindly. Their gasoline combusts in their engines.
Clouds escape from their prisons.
They roam free, Falling on the first sign of life. Suddenly, it appears from overhead. Shapeless, but unchanging, Cold and mysterious, A dark shadow falls over the forest. The troposphere is covered By dank clouds of mist. They are rooted in steam stacks, Factories and engines.