Kept

• Nathan Levett, Grade 11
• Poetry
• 2010

Uttered words which wound,
The filth there is in this faith,
Those spoken few,
They keep me in my Fatal Façade.

Speech through psychotic psynergies,
Like a vanishing corpse,
Those sworn few,
They keep me in my Fatal Façade.

Vocalised Vices which withhold,
Any sense of a clearer day,
Those few that weren’t screamed,
They have kept me in my Fatal Façade.

Kept within sociological chasms, Psychological engines cease.
Within tarnished aspirations I writhe,
Kept as cadaveric proof of my Façade.