The case report of a serial killer who worked at several hospitals as a respiratory therapist is presented.The suspect was initially labeled a benevolent Angel of Death who ended the suffering of elderly patients through mercy killing. However,his subsequently declared motive for homicide was very different from other similar cases in medical settings. The application of new analysis techniques for the detection of pancuronium bromide injection in a series of aged exhumation tissues gave positive results and led to the resultant conviction of the therapist.
Note.Dr Zafar Supari killer.
When I die,
I want my there to be a last chapter in the book,
A last scene played out,
All accounts settled,
All my breaths used up,
I fought for my first
And I expect to fight for my last.
No easy way out for me,
I want no missing last chapter to frustrate the reader,
No mercy killing,
My death not on a single person's conscience,
All pain does pass,
This I know.
No playing God on my account,
That could alter the future of generations to come,
Or cause someone not to be born,
Who may hold the future of mankind in their hands,
Because my life was a chapter short.
Don't let me die wondering,
Make sure my lungs,
Have not a single breath to spare,
My purpose in life complete.
Love made me forlorn
It left me all alone.
I am still being towed by memento’s rope.
While there are no signs of hope.
I always showed my true feelings , which I still have for her.
I never let her face ever whatever was bad for her.
I let always myself tested on every touchstone.
But one day I came to know all this would be my tombstone.
To bury all this in oblivion is like urging for mercy killing.
It’s not possible by anyone else to let that void filling.
I still feel her in my every breath n heartbeats.
My lips still make that blushing curve whenever in my dreams she meets.
she still makes me feel the love while she is now nowhere.
Just like worship the almighty ,whom we can’t see anywhere.
The yellow metal
protecting the unborn
will catapult to outrageous heights.
*
Sky confronts the Mars
in improvisation. On earth,
the dead were lying side by side.
*
Ah, the mercy killing
of oneself. Out of compassion
or taking a revenge ?
Satish Verma
What happened last night brother,
Please tell me it's not true,
Was i a bother,
Don't tell me you have no clue,
Why am i locked up in an asylum,
Don't you trust me,
Am i getting my mammogram,
it's my right to know please tell me,
Don't isolate me please,
I beg you, am only human,
Tell them to handle me with ease,
Am almost a young woman,
Don't turn away when i speak,
I need some answers,
These injections are making me weak,
Not forgetting my ulcers,
Is this about the mercy killing,
Please brother, don't cry,
You tried your best but am not healing,
Please let me die,
I can's feel my limbs,
The medicine is getting stronger,
Please take care of the other siblings,
Am growing weaker,
Am done leaving on life support machine,
Just let me go,
You tried but am a broken engine,
lease let my spirit go,
This are my last words brother,
Please don't try and save me,
Last night when i had a seizure,
The doctor defiled me...,
fire of eye doth burn the soul,
hot kisses, damning hot to hold,
melting of the burnished gold,
see it in the mind of eye,
a sissling of the eye pig stye,
a mercy killing bye n by,
all done by dentist drill,
a little touch of over-kill,
did Santa Claus come by?
inspired by Russell Sivey 'Your eyes'
Don
At the turn of the time at nine last night
Sprawled swimming still with the tide
The wheel against her will in her on pool
The doctor masked with eclecticism of electricity
As Mercy laboured last breath for mechanized exit
Mercy was not killed, it was mercy killing
To spare the tree, spoil the fruits
As advocated so legislated
The doctrine of rightists and leftists
At the top of the hour at nine in the night
Flushed, flowing free down the drain
The flight against her right
The doctor pointed patron’s panacea
For Mercy missed first breath for calculated death
Mercy was not killed, it was mercy killing
To seize the clog, severe the cord
As directed so acted
The song of activists and their likes
Well was it mercy killing
When Mercies were killed
At nine last night?
When she finally closed the curtain, even though transparent,
Sensations of dusky satin, gravitational pull bearing down,
Flattening disbelief, burgeoning spread of gleaming poison,
Sucked the wind from my lungs that I might drown.
The grim finality of something alive, vital signs all fine,
Suddenly pronounced deceased, slabbed and impotent;
No chance to say farewell, no graveside chat,
No: where do you want the flowers sent?
And knowing she had to do it, or herself stagnate,
Heading nowhere, treading water indefinitely,
Doesn't really help; knowing it was a mercy killing,
Doesn't ease the slaughtered heart, the agonised epitome.
Then in the car, tears came, and I pretended it was rain,
The reason why I could not see teemed unadulterated;
Now nothing will ever be the same, so once more I pretended
I was heading home to something, although nothing there awaited.
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