Disowned Corpses Poem by Usman Hanif

My eyes witness
the ritual of degradation
The clotted blood
within the dead veins
The stiffened bodies that stink
And the agile hands
that stab them and cut them
The pale skin never reveal
the red flesh on the bones
And the ribs always concealed
the heart that is now dead
The virtual knif runs
through my chest to the throat
I could feel the pain
that the dead corpse could not
Those hands would never tremble
'cause they know the only truth
that they are the disowned corpses,
left here to cut at their ease
to make the soul a corpse...

My eyes witness
what they never wish
to see those hands
that pierced them so brutally...

12-09-2008