Welcome to where the dead things are
Flesh fresh from the womb
Still warm, still kicking, still life.
The grief in the eyes of those who remain.
-the shadow of death is filling the room
-where the voice of life is put to sleep
-the sun must pass the darkness rules
-where the angel of death claims its sacrifices.
-an institution of death
-no life here only death is real
-feeling no presence only the stench of death
-no escaping by life only by death.
As the new-born, still-born is put away
7 babies for the beast
dissecting, selecting the best pieces.
Boiling the fat away
Gleaming bones in disturbing shapes
I shape with henzied precision
Hungering for perfection.
Science and madness
The secrets of the flesh.