Iím seized once more with heavy, cruel chill. The heart goes rolling like a stone in an empty barrel. There is a shaggy spiteful dolt that dwells within, With strong prehensile callous hands. When my bewildered state is clearly felt, My friends say I am going to run riot - That means I canít go on living with him, He grasps my oxygen, my space, my peace and quiet.         He waits for me to finish one more turn, So that to shape out lines with my limp fingers - He makes me cruel, wary, and again Iíll sell wholesale all whom I love.         But Iíve not yet submitted to his will! He wonít escape this time, I swear, Iíll kill him: Iíll give him poison gulping it for him - I will outwit him, certainly, I will.
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