Sanctuary can be given

But in just equal parts detained

With a gentle grip so scarcely felt

Until nothing of substance remains

As a refurbished antique rifle

Spends months behind locked doors

Tucked away in backlogged neighborhoods

Architectural anomalies

Vying to trigger the explosion

Of modernity, displacement, fear

A swift premonition riding the night

Nevermore shall livings live here

But not you, the beige brick federal

Obliged in contractual grasp

For no force can filch you away

No threat, treason, nor tender trap

There is no power here greater

Than the promise that you keep

Our love protected from the gunfire

So for once I rest while I sleep