The winds of change rustle The Empyrean,
Entheogenic vapours are adrift.
Awash in the ebbing tide of a perfect dusk sky,
Lying in wait, with patience, for this coming gift.
There's sincerity here, hidden
beneath Entheos-ridden mist.
Will it conceal to save face?

(I do swear by it's grace.)

Medina's breath refreshed us,
I took in her Aer under easing lights;
As one hot midsummer's day became
one cool midsummer's night.
We let the eddies of subconscious thought direct us
and we did soar, aloft to grand heights [buzzin'],
So high, no more. That's it, dizzy up the girl.

It was with such irrevocable jive
that we did commit to the night.

(Isn't self-sufficiency what we all strive for?)

It is the lateness of our chosen hour
that prompts such unequivocal pondering.

On absurd shores
lined by city street-lamps
waves pave the sand with swirls of starlight.

Morning eclipsed the other-worlds of last night,
A tsunami of sensation faded like umbrae unto dawn.

Acid cyclone ate the rising sun
as The Empyrean yawned.