Send for me and take me,
take my soul, it's crouching low
but it is calling you to take it,
and to bend it like a bow that will not break
unless you let it, 'less you make it --
make it so:
send for me and take me,
though I'm hiding, crouching low.



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This text © 2002 John David Robinson, all rights reserved. Duplication prohibited without written consent.