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Talk about distress...
It never seemed a good idea,
But eventually, I did sit down
In the chair you provided,
And even let you tie both
My hands and feet.
Once secured, however,
I was never party to the next
Part of the plan:
A gun beneath my chin,
And your finger on the trigger.
I found it odd
You did all the talking,
By not talking at all.
It was nothing like with Jesus,
Where I fade away
To let His light shine.
Loving, when it dies
In the big fade out
Leaves a residue,
And no more wondering why,
Oh so cruel. |