Harsh chemicals plunged
my lungs, I can’t breathe
but I’ve to..
Mortified bodies, slashed into flesh
Mere red flesh, cutting through.
Haunted at night by deadly thoughts
Am I seeing walking dead?
grinning and staring at my
blood-shed hands
Saying, I saw you
Cutting my body with a saw!
Don’t you feel pity even for a moment?
and the zombies smiled at each other.
Most days I can’t eat,
for the fear of maggots entering
my lunch box from
one of the decayed body.
Some distorted, some set ablaze
Strangulation or infarction,
Still births or stone-colds,
All end up in here!
Dental crowns or restorations
adds clue to my infinite blurriness;
and I am checking dentition to
figure out their age.
Men or women, child or teen
They call it a ‘body’!
After hours of cutting open,
You’re all sewd up for a show
The show, where your kith and kin
surrounds you to cry;
The tears which they never had for you
When you were bloody alive.
Passing corridors over mortuary
The wind carries a smell,
Not just of the soul of the dead
But the smell of buried thoughts of your peers!
Telling stories
I am doing my duty,
Of going back and cutting
some more flesh
lying on the table
looking pale and grey.
Welcome aboard new one’s,
and good-bye old one’s.
When I’m slicing you, just know
I’m slicing a part of my soul!
…Life of a Forensic Surgeon!
Dr. Alka Ram
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