Pathoanatomist

Again rotting began in human corpse
Fresh body is cut with no remorse
Seeking infection – the cause of early death – that took away breath

Scalping head of rotten skin
Finding maggots there within
Scarifying empty skull
Cannot all my work be dull

Pathoanatomist – profession to carve dead flesh
Organs investigated become trash

I see dead man lies in my hands... silent...
Waiting to cut all his entrails
Violent, no pain of scalpel steel he felt

My work has been done so clear
I have never felt the fear

Washing hands of bloody spots
I do never address gods