On the table
The cold, cold table -
It lies.

It lies there-
On the cold, cold table
With its unnerving sticky warmth
And its tough grainy texture

Its oddly round shape
Lies there-
On the cold, cold table
Shaking and coughing.

It's sputtering out-
Its very last
Remnants of life-
On the cold, cold table

It moves so uncontrollable-
Erratic-
As if it knows there must be
Something more
To live for.

Its unnerving sticky warmth
And tough grainy texture
Vibrate-
On the cold, cold table

As if its throbbing-
Could warm the very table
It lies upon.

If it could breathe
It would be gasping
choking-
Snatching the air with its nostrils
Just to live.

But it lies there
throbbing-
dying-
Like the last ember
Turning black
On a once raging fire.

It lies there-
So very frigid-
On the cold, cold table

No longer
Beating out its last sad song-
Its last plea
On the cold, cold table

No,
My heart-
Is like the last ember
On a once raging fire

Scarlet-
Turned crimson black-
There-
On that cold, cold table.