Sanctuary

The steel and glass reach to the sky, the ground covered in man-made stone, there are always people everywhere, they scurry ‘bout while on their phones. They call this place the ‘Big Apple,’ but there’s not one such tree in sight, and here it can be a really bad idea to stay out too late at night. I say no, trying to find a way home, I’m just a savage in Rome, needing a place where man can breathe free, that’s my sanctuary. Seeing the steel towers gleam, but not like a running stream, needing a place with no chains on me, a cool, clean sanctuary. The scrubby hills covered with homes, vast halls that big actors inhabit. The smog clings down in the valley of a city where depravity’s rabid. A desert full of many millions, all of them there with a dream, unaware or uncaring of the true costs of being part of that scene. I say no, trying to find a way home, I’m just a savage in Rome, needing a place where man can breathe free, that’s my sanctuary. Hollywood makes you wealthy, if your comfortable on your knees, needing a place with more dignity a cool, clean sanctuary. The ridges rise and block the sun, swift torrents carve through rock, empty wilds give not a whit about fashions, jobs, and clocks. The trails, they wander endlessly over raw dirt and bedrock tile, nearby sits my house, tucked away, my driveway a whole quarter mile. I say whoa! Finally found my way home, here where a savage can roam, deep in a place where man still breathes free, it’s my sanctuary. Here where the rough waters team, with a backyard of evergreens, this is the place where those fools can’t be, my cool, clean sanctuary.