You gotta let the blood out the body
You gotta let it all fade away
Once the blood is out the body
Then the body can reawake
You gotta walk the streets at night
Watch the victims shining bright
Waiting for dreams that never come true
Clinging to life nearly through
You gotta let the blood out the body
You gotta let it all fade away
Once the blood is out the body
Then the body can reawake
You gotta watch their eyes
No hiding, no disguise
Vacant pools lacking soul
Destiny’s ashes burning coals
You gotta let the blood out the body
You gotta let it all fade away
Once the blood is out the body
Then the body can reawake
You gotta cut the body wide
Gotta cut it deep inside
See the pictures' life unfold
Death in jars, story told.
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Author:
Paul Bell (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: February 9th, 2026 09:26
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 15
- Users favorite of this poem: Friendship, Tristan Robert Lange
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Comments6
Wow. Well written yet so dark. Your poem "Autopsy" explores themes of mortality, the fragility of life, and the cathartic process of confronting death and loss. The poet suggests that to rejuvenate or "reawaken," one must confront the painful aspects of existence, represented through the metaphor of blood leaving the body. Yet you leave a haunting imagery of life and its aftermath. The act of "letting the blood out" serves as a metaphor for emotional release and the necessity of facing the darker aspects of life.
They do say blood transfusions are good for you.
Had a neighbor that was a mortician had a rather dark sense of humor. Let the blood out of the body is that were the idea of vampires came from? A rather morbid feel here. The Egyptians took the organs out, seems like a lot of lost effort to me. Jack the ripper did it with passion. I wonder who's work it was to put them back inside. A poem that holds the attention as if the body was being autopsied along with the poem. Very nicely done my friend
Always noticed people who dealt with death had a dark sense of humour.
Mind you, probably need one to keep going.
My sense of humor is dark enough as it is need a hebephrenic with silly uncontrollable laughter to balance out.
Death I suppose is the release, but maybe not the end.
"Fee fi fo fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman"
Never understood the blood drinking lot.
I'm sure it's an excuse for not getting the beers in.
Also don't have regular sleeping hours....
Working nightshift is bad for health.....
Love it! That refrain about letting the blood out does heavy lifting here, Paul. It turns autopsy into ritual, not spectacle. The insistence sharpens the dread. Well done. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Stopped walking the streets at night now.
I hear you!
This reads like a bruised prayer, not a threat — pain as purging, survival as ritual.
Dark, relentless, and honest about what it costs to keep breathing when hope won’t show up.
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