What follows is a poem written by a woman who I know and can confirm was one of the truest victims of Keith Alan Raniere.
Raniere abused her for years and created catastrophe in her life – including trying to get her falsely imprisoned – all because she would not submit to his terror and his and his minion’s rule.
From that perspective, this poem has real meaning – for it comes from one who truly suffered – but never caused suffering in Nxivm.
She never recruited anyone for Raniere, never submitted to his filthy desires – yet suffered for years from his attacks.
I cannot reveal who this individual is who has written this poem. She wishes to remain anonymous – at least for now. She has said that later, and soon, she will go on record and describe the abuse she suffered from this despicable monster. Many readers already know her name.
She wrote her poem on June 19, the day Keith Alan Raniere was convicted – a day some of us refer to as Vangone Day. [Others celebrate Vangone Day on March 26 – the day Keith Alan Raniere was arrested in Mexico and placed in US federal custody. Some also celebrate March 26 – as KAR-ma Day.]
A tiny, dreary and lonely cell,
With only a slit for a window,
A metallic bed, distasteful food,
And criminals for companions.
This Keith intended for me,
My innocence mattered not,
Or my pure virtuous life,
For I was merely his amusement.
The power, command and control,
He had over people and justice,
Was an intoxicating drug to him,
For he did it again and again.
But no matter how powerful a tyrant,
Truth must prevail in the end,
And if the good stick to being good,
They will surely see the tides turn.
What Keith intended for me,
Instead materialized for him,
For now, he crawls onto a metal bed,
While I rest on my foam mattress.
While he looks at the outside thru’ a slit,
I sit on my porch, absorbing the outdoors,
While he wonders how to pass time,
I wonder what I’d like to do next.
While he eats a distasteful meal,
I finish mine with a rich dessert,
While he sits in the same jumpsuit,
I wear my fine jewelry and dress.
While he plans for an appeal for release,
I plan a short trip that is fun filled,
While commissary is his only fun,
I know not what to choose from.
‘Tis time to remember, no matter what,
Stick to the Truth always, for in the end,
Truth always prevails and Justice is served.
She who laughs last, laughs best!
All Artwork by MK10ART [see more of her work here]
Here’s the poem with pictures.
A tiny, dreary and lonely cell,
With only a slit for a window,
A metallic bed, distasteful food,
And criminals for companions.
This Keith intended for me,
My innocence mattered not,
Or my pure virtuous life,
For I was merely his amusement.
The power, command and control,
He had over people and justice,
Was an intoxicating drug to him,
For he did it again and again.
But no matter how powerful a tyrant,
Truth must prevail in the end,
And if the good stick to being good,
They will surely see the tides turn.
What Keith intended for me,
Instead materialized for him,
For now, he crawls onto a metal bed,
While I rest on my foam mattress.
While he looks at the outside thru’ a slit,
I sit on my porch, absorbing the outdoors,
While he wonders how to pass time,
I wonder what I’d like to do next.
While he eats a distasteful meal,
I finish mine with a rich dessert,
While he sits in the same jumpsuit,
I wear my fine jewelry and dress.
While he plans for an appeal for release,
I plan a short trip that is fun-filled,
While commissary is his only fun,
I know not what to choose from.
‘Tis time to remember, no matter what,
Stick to the Truth always, for in the end,
Truth always prevails and Justice is served.
And She who laughs last, laughs best!
And thank you, Frank Parlato – for having the power and determination to bring down this evil monster and helping to set me free.
MK10 Frank Parlato
