The Awakening Trilogy, Page 4 Of 4 Poem by John Bliven Morin

How long must I remain
Conscious, yet divest
Of movement to give
A sign to make them stop?
The merest twitch, a blink,
Is quite beyond my grasp.
Ahhh! I hear my viscera flop
Wetly in the nearby sink;
If I could but scream or gasp.
In silence, do I scream,
Inside my head exploding,
As they remove my liver
And my very spleen,
Onto the table, loading;
I cannot even shiver.
Part by agonizing part,
They deftly take, with skill,
Forceps, and knife;
At last they reach my heart,
And welcome darkness will
End at last my miserable life.