And No One Leaves

Welcome to our town, peaceful, perfect and no one leaves.

The farmland, the trees, the rivers and the animals provide. No one leaves.

The trees build our houses, the leaves aid our fires. No one leaves.

Fish swim down the river, deer roam the woods, the corn grows high. No one leaves.

The men train to fight and to hunt. The women raise the young, nurture the elderly and infirmed, make the food. No one leaves.

The festival happens annually, brings in new blood. Sacrifice keeps the harvest strong, the rivers clear and the bloodline pure. No one leaves

The flowers lure, the fruit tempts, tasting traps. No one leaves.

The tourists have stopped coming, the climate has grown more extreme, the crops are starting to brown. No one leaves.

The rivers, the streams they run empty, depleted of fish long ago. No one leaves.

The rocks shape and sharpen, grind and bludgeon. No one leaves.

The animals roam. Their eyes glow, fluid drips from their maws, they snarl, they snap. No one leaves.

The food rots black, shadows lurk, the bugs come dine on decaying flesh. No one leaves.

The leaders hear the wails, the cries, the screams but they claim that’s just the wind. No one leaves.

The people become the soil, the shadows, the wind. No one leaves. 

No one can.