You've left this land, but this land won’t leave you.
She’s painted like a sky inside your mind,
beneath which your true life is acted out.
Her vengeance is each day you don’t return.
As birds retrace their ways on twilit wings,
however far they forage from their nests,
so too your soul, when daylight’s had its way,
is drawn to suckle at her thorny breast,
until you waken to a world of mirrors,
where nothing is familiar but yourself,
to wander gleaming cities leached of life,
whose foreign doorways bar you from your home.



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Copyr­­ight 2025 by Jon Corelis

joncorelis.com