I stood on the cliffs of Cabo Girao,
I watched the village slip away,
into to the mouth of mother nature;
into the sea of salt and spray.

And in my baseball cap, I leant out,
and threw my t-shirt to the sea,
I was done with missing sunlight;
I was done with autumn leaves.

I headed out to warmer climates,
and I was cradled in the sun.
I experienced new beginnings,
in the roots of Babylon.

They whispered through ayahusaca,
as I force-fed myself the tea;
as I malfunctioned into sanity,
as new voices came to be.

We laughed on through the Amazon,
and in the emptied streets of Rome.
Earth fell upon the weight of change;
now all of the land was home.

Old pick-up trucks are left to rust,
as all memories are altered.
A cigarette will tempt our death,
in a breath so rushed and faltered.

The voices left me in the high-rise,
in the car-park that we once looked out;
we saw the limit that is the horizon,
we saw a future full of doubt.

I have travelled through the aftermath,
and found no one left at all.
At least there's peace in my delusion,
away from the ancient city sprawl.

Yet, still with all these questions,
of what was caused, under which name;
you still send them to expire,
as I linger on your gaze.

I've not seen you in a while now,
you could be dead or worse: happy.
All I want is to find Eden,
and have you descend down from the trees.