Another interruption in duty and chore;
A call to task behind the gray door.
With ' Y ' cut to make,
and samples to take;
Questions to expose - Avenues to explore.

Isolation of Ego, emotion to kill;
and icy detachment, stronger than Will;
Focused determination!
studied external examination...

Skin unmarred, odd warmth to feel;
contrasts the bite of cold stainless steel.
Sixteen years to find such beauty true,
fully half child, yet half woman too.

Though vessel unfilled, full is the need;
For custom and doctrine, by religion decreed -
before set of sun, by end of this day...
To surrender such fairness to earthen decay.

But why this torment, this angst, this awe?
And why in the ringing silence does a tear form to fall?
The answer forms fallow, so deep from within...
'My promise is lost, all innocence - all sin,
Loosed with last breath; Loosed to the wind.'

I cracked. I crumbled. I wept in helpless desperation!
Gloves snapped off at the thought of such desecration!
Rules melted and merged meaningless, sparing violation.
and the only 'Y' to be known was an unanswered invocation.

walt martin

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/reflections-of-an-autopsy-undone/