The Illusion of Elsewhere

They look to the skies,
not in reverence,
but in escape.

Mars becomes a promise—
a clean slate,
a new world to exploit
when the wounds of this one become too loud.

But no red dust
can cover the ache they carry.
No foreign star
can quiet a soul that is still at war within.

The light of Earth
asks not for your perfection,
but for your presence.

She says:
“Don’t flee me.
Feel me.
Heal with me.”

For it is not the planet
that must change—
it is the dreamer
who must remember
where home truly is.