eden's echo

She left a town of steeples,
Old stone and silence,
Where cobbled streets still whispered
Dreams of days long gone.
She carried visions wrapped in faith,
Like drifting islands,
Just like her mother did
When she was young.

She heard the stories told
Of golden valleys—
Where freedom bloomed beneath
An open sky.
So she chased the sun,
Across the borderlines,
Looking for a life,
Or a place to hide.

Down where the towers rise
On glass foundations,
You’ll find the hopeful lost
In neon prayer.
And they call it Eden,
But I don’t know why—
They leveled hills and painted
Smoke across the sky.

Then the desert wind
Came rolling colder,
And brushed the billboard saints
In Santa Fe.
The ocean sparkled false
For those who wandered—
Looking for a God
To show the way.

And kings in tailored suits
Bought out the mountains,
And sold the dreams
They never understood.
They paved the sacred earth
For shopping altars,
And prayed in pews
Made out of polished wood.

They called it Eden—
The land of free—
But watched the dying sun
Fall into the sea.

You can sail away,
Like all the pilgrims,
To find another shore
Where truth once stood.
They hung a cross in lights
Above the strip malls,
And said “He’s coming soon—
So all is good.”

But who draws the lines in sand and sky?
Who claims the land, and who decides?
When every final shore is claimed,
What’s left to build but walls and blame?

We feed our endless hungers loud—
We wave our flags, we pray so proud—
We conquer in the name of peace,
And kill to make the conflict cease.

And on a Sunday,
You’ll hear them singing,
About the promised land
Beyond the haze.
They call it Eden,
But I don’t know why—
You call someplace Eden,
You’ve kissed it goodbye.