The stains on the walls of my 6 by 6 cubicle look like an art
Cleaning my knife with a white cloth is how my day starts
I do pray to my god in the morning like everyone else
But I have to pray a little more and cast few more spells
I do not remember if I chose this profession out of choice
But now I am ashamed seeing even my customers despise
I am sad that people do not give any respect to my profession
Despite the fact that I sin for their desires and obsessions
They think that I am cruel and have no heart
Alas! I just cannot end something to which I dutifully gave a start
Perhaps I have no mercy for those innocent souls
And I do not think much while at work earning money to fulfill my goals
My work is my religion and I worship it for my sake
It does not matter anymore that how many lives I take
It does not matter that I have to put my life at stake to rot in hell
I am a butcher and all I have got is the meat to sell
