AUTOPSY

Last night on the table kept in the morgue 

An autopsy was done, 

To check the reasons for deserting the soul,

From the treacherous flesh.

 

Among the hundreds of possibilities, 

The doctors fixed their attention 

On examining the mind first, 

And found vacuity. 

Denuding the portion of wilted heart then,

They found, 

It was squeezed by the jettisoned dreams

And put the ink of satiation on the report

That claimed it dead, completely dead

And drew the curtains to keep it safe

A cadaver to study,

A fine example of posterity.