Cadaver
CADAVER
(a philosophical dissection)
Dissection hall-bedding the dead,
The air thick with formalin,
Moving blades, dissecting-
The stillness in front.
Frostiness of death, biting-
The warmness of breathes!
Cadavers at peace,
Motionless and still,
Dead and fighting to decay,
Naked bodies-
With veiled existence!
I wonder,
If the dead had left some stories to tell,
Tales that neither made the pages of story books,
Nor been recited at bed sides.
If the dead had some songs to sing,
Melodies that neither echoed in the stars,
Nor rolled-down with the rains.
The untold stories and the unsung songs,
Can never be dissected out,
No matter how sharp the blades are!
Copyright © Lameesa Sherin | Year Posted 2019
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