(I)
Keep what you are about
To hear in the treasury
Of your heart.
It is my secret; that which
Weighs me down.
It compels me to tell you.
It asks me;
What good is a secret if
It is not weighed?
How good is
A story if it is not censured?
So to you my friend
(Whose vaults are impenetrable)
I convey you my secret.

It is sly, outwit it.
It is onerous, endure it.
It is a secret, forget it.
The best way to keep a secret is
To overlook it, but that will betray
The purpose for which
It is told.

(II)
It is hunting me.
It is spying on me.
It makes me the cynosure
Of all eyes.
Such encumbrance can’t
Be borne.
What good is a secret
If it can’t be weighed?
If to a Priest I
Divulge my secret,
The mask I wear will
Be torn.
If to a Minister I
Voice my secret,
I will become public
Scum.
The only person who
Can keep a secret
Is a dead one but the
Truth is;
I don’t trust their shadows.
My name is Cain
And to you all a piece
Of my secret is given.
What is my secret?