"Lapse" might be the word to use for this, my sad return to life
Upon the plains, and "plain" is, likewise, all too apt, as this existence,
Given over to its sundry noisome tasks, its lack of entertainment,
Of appealing food, of warmth, again is flat and unappealing.
Home may be, as is so often said, where any heart resides,
But this home feels devoid of comfort. It's just where my heart
Returns to rest, to lapse, it's fair to say, now that my brief
Escape from it is done.