Scalpels decorate the stainless table with courting death;
gleaming in cruel glee, watching the bed of stench reel in.
Downing ectasy whilst calculating time's impetuous math,
ready to indulge in corpse's blossoming blood sin.
Vying firsts to make the pioneer cut deep,
relish eruptions of crimson's malice, scent.
Y incision driven through her stone cold chest, a leap;
the mortuarist's snigger accompany flesh's exposed rant.
Deafening gasp struck echoes upon the white walls,
every metal struggling to catch a sight: terrific revelation.
Fingers launch into spasms as tension balls,
tis the very moment to record life's conclusion.
All organs intact, etched to bruising blue veins but,
one's disappearance explained victim's death yearn.
Void lays in the cradle where her ruby fist used to hut,
thus closed as a case of eventual heartburn...
