There is a place where wolves go.
Away from the searing noise.
Away from trash cans and alley ways.
A place where pads are not burnt by concrete,
But are cradled by the soft dirt.

In this place, kings are not lowered to scavenge.
Warriors are not forced to flee.
Here, their hunt, is more sacred than ever.
And their prey, more honored.

Men have killed and died to reach this place.
Have sacrificed life itself to keep it safe.
We few that reach it, know we can never go back,
To that place in the woods.