Descent from a Trek

I have descended from the heavens, a fall from grace. In the hills, there was stillness in people, cleanliness in the rivers and a freshness of spirit, running along the air. 

As I walk down to civilisation, I am greeted by hungry mosquitoes, children who want all my belongings, mosquitoes who ruthlessly take my blood, and a river of garbage to top it off. It is a soul sucking world, robbed of dignity and delicate delights. It is stress I come down to. A man throws a plastic pile of bottles into a mud brown river next to me. 

In this chaos, I face the small garden with rivers, surrounded by the filth of greed. The few petals and flowers that remain, are my only sustainence