Nativity Obscene - A Nursery Chyme

Calcified infant is a breach birth debacle
 Natal necrolysis, destined for a formaldehyde-filled bottle
 Caesarean section reveals the ghastly tot
 An ossified infant, in it's womb borne to rot
 Livid and stiff ere it's first breath is claimed
 The rigid bundle of joy, catatonically maimed
 Cold, dead and hard as it's exhumed from the womb
 The uterus it's cradle, and it's moist fetid tomb
 Only scalpels left for playthings
 Swaddling clothes bloody but not from chafing
 Baptism by embalming solution
 As the trocar facilities the cold blood's dilution
 Festered fetus drawn from the cavity in which it was conceived
 Birth and death now unified, as the grotesque infant is retrieved
 Livid osteopedion, breathless lungs still, cold and dry
 Birth is just a forensic folly when in being born one dies
 Birth and death in one fell breath, extract the corpse from her guts
 The morbid birthing cavity is lavaged, torn and cut
 Another tiny life that ended before it could begin
 Another piece of human offal, to end up in the rubbish bin
 Neither gurgles nor cries escape it's lifeless blue lips
 Placenta disgorges amniotic fluid as the umbilical cord rips
 Morbid nursery chymes fall on deaf little ears
 As the dry-eyed infant incites parents to bitter tears
 Obstetric atrocity
 With a casket for a crib
 Nursery for an autopsy
 Body bag for a bib
 Hush little baby, don't say a word
 Mama's going to have to get a casket reserved
 But if your body is too decomposed
 The coffin door will have to stay closed
 A babe in her arms
 Not safe from harm
 When the water breaks, the cradle will rot
 A nursery chyme with no happy ending, left in the wastebasket, dead and forgot
 Another corpse to carve for pathologists and their ilk
 Nursed on embalming fluid, no use crying over silt mother's milk
 Silent baby rattles stilled
 The doctor's gloved hands deliver the babe into a grave that now is filled
 Morbid anatomy technicians are the child's only playmates
 Callously dissecting, the infantile inanimate
 A bloodied dissecting table serves as the young one's tomb and trundle
 As inquisitive butchery, splays this joyless rotten bundle
 Dead before ever being alive to die
 Eyes closed forever ere the first tear could dry
 Mouth sealed by rigor mortis before the first newborn cry
 Dissected infant on the table, dead-cut and dry
 Newborn fatality
 Whose playpen is a slab
 Lifeless nativity
 Diminutive toes to be tagged
 Now I lay you down to sleep
 Your putrid flesh not long to keep
 If you should rot before you wake
 Then leave your corpse for the worms to take
 In the cold corridors in the sterile, dead morgue
 Sobs are heard from the maternity ward
 But from the mouth of babes, no sound escapes
 In this nativity obscene behind mortuary drapes