Irony

How ironic can it be.

I've been robbed. Robbed of my chance. Robbed of what was inside of me. What's left is now an empty shell, and when the cold night wind blows the painful gaping hole, it whistles in my ears.

I was robbed. Taken away from me, without a chance to stand up for myself.

It wasn't just another one. It wasn't. Hope the cold wind carries my stories over there. Lest I be lost in the warm nights, let me not fade in the memories. Remember. Please remember.

Powerless is the man that thought he was the most powerful.
Robbed was the man, who knew he was the azure.

So swift and powerful, the most vicious of crimes, I was robbed.