This room became synonymous with death,
while waiting for relief from outside threats;
Hot and bare in wooded forest's scene,
stifling--hardly breathing---from the steam.

Recalling how I came upon this place,
running from the worst of the human race;
Folks who spend their lives in troubled spheres,
intending to cause harm and foster fear.

It wasn't long ago I had some friends,
who seemed willing to reach out and make amends;
But then mistrust and hateful thoughts arose,
which prompted me to gather all my clothes.

In summer's blazing heat I crossed a bridge,
and found this cottage on a mountainous ridge;
With few possessions curled up in a ball,
I lay in wait with hope no one would call.

And finally I heard the people's rants,
with fiery forces calling out in chants;
To surrender in humiliation and dismay,
or they'd drag me out and put me on display.

I must confess while praying to the Lord,
my crime was nothing horrid or abhorrent;
If God would let me live just one more hour,
these cramped quarters would be all I could desire.

And here I'll live in peace and honor still,
and cast no other stranger to the hill;
For every child should know he has a place,
within the bounds of God's amazing grace.