Sarcoma-cised

If there must be the heart…
More than just a fist-sized organ…

If there must be sensitivity…
More than just the contracting siphon…

Then why must such butchery…
Of the soul come so easy…
Why then must a man…
Slay a belief with such apathy…

And if then such a massacre…
Of trust must transpire…

If for such carnal gaffes…
The body needs perspire…

Then let me be a cadaver…
A carcass must I be…
For humanity once touched me…
And then did he…

And in the eternal wait…
Affections turn ephemeral…

A convenient turn of the hour…
A verity so belatedly he did cull…

For never shall I now permit…
A healing to my tainted bed…
For love is a cancerous perjury…
To enervate, assail and then shred.