Nomad Writer

On nights like this—

Supine beneath

The emerald trails

Of an angel’s dance

Swirls of aurora flow

In tandem

With the delicate flutter

Of a faint song

Echoed

In the heart of a music box—

I realize

This is not where I belong

On this earth

Filled with misery;

Its unrelenting yearning

Unseen burdens

Bruising the spines

Of those like me

Awaiting the freedom

That calls to us

Beyond the cosmic gloaming