A path not walked by my own two feet
A story that isn’t my own
A welcoming space that has no seat
An illusion of refuge is sown
Crushed by the weight of daily strife
That builds until bones break
A loaded spring, a coiled life
The promise I’ll forsake
Your sanctuary invites the starved
Gives power to the meek
Within your walls, a soul that’s carved
Will grant you what you seek
The spring is loosened, the coil unwound
The silence starts to speak
In seeking what can not be found
The strong become the meek