The Deranged Doctor

The corner stone of a building 
Of mire and blood and salvage salvation - unsteady steps 
'Son' He called 
It is a burden on me to make a time capsule 
for I cannot endure the taunting and haunting cries of innocent children 
In the shadows 
Their bloody anguish 
Pulling the rope 
And the knots drawing to a tightened close 
The noose 
Time to strangle the hither to loose victim. 

Mother - wraiths - their mouths dripping with blood 
They haunt the recess of the building 
I can envisage a river of blood and tears 
The paradox of saving life 
Irony in pangs of morass 
Murderer 
Accomplice in the dark 
Advancement 
Before my birth a ghost 
A descent into the lowermost echelons 
Of the underworld 
Of a deep gulf 
Antagonism between mother and child 
O child waiting to be born 
This is not the time 
Of innocence 
The womb a lions den - devours 

Lullaby from mother - echoes of death 
Child - your death is a blessing 
And so I cannot be guilty 
Of a crime 
You will be reborn later 

'Son, crimes and heinous acts 
Lay hidden in baptismal purity 
Of virginity 

Plunged into the heart 
Where many are dying and many more 
Will die in blood - 
And bring the scalpel 
Bring the - 
And the - 
Bring all the paraphernalia 
The dire accoutrements 
Of the cruel and appalling operation 
In filth of human sacrifice 
Path - to the grave of the time capsule.