Robbed Of My Self - Poem by Oleg Vorobyov
Robbed I am of my Self (The Robber can be none?)
So I e'n deeper delve to see who could have done
The deed.- To my dismay the answer's on display:
The robber's vacuum of my unmoving heart
With its light-barring gloom, whence all calousness start!
The robber's merciless, has severed me of sense:
I'm naked, shorn of dress, like overpolished lense!
He's flung me rags instead, the rags of listless wake.
I've to asylum fled for stupefaction's sake
The sanity of heart, the sanctuary of soul
Unviolable? Drat! - They're rotten, not that whole!
The robber's me derobed. Nonentity I am
With heart which never bled, (in my severe rhyme)
Like gaunt and maneless lion...
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