The Butchered Dawn

Somewhere near a slaughterhouse, life survives.

everywhere, I smell blood,

so strong, so sickening.

wasted many perfume bottles on my clothes,

But still, the scent of warm blood,

The stench of cold flesh stays with me.

Somewhere near a slaughterhouse,

I have washed my hands many times,

I have scrubbed every plate in my flat,

Yet, I still taste blood.

I feel a rotting smell,

I see raw meat everywhere,

rotting hands and feet,

roses of bullets buried in the fresh chests,

Pieces of flesh near the navel,

lying on my breakfast plate.

Somewhere near a slaughterhouse,

life survives.

Mansoor Afaq