There was a man with a simple life,
Take a lady out on a date,
Stab her through her heart with a knife
So she could meet her fate.
Many a lady would see the blade,
Their eyes would start to flood.
Not soon after, their world would fade,
His hands red with their blood.
He’d say to them, with knife in heart,
Before for help they cry,
“Death is life and life is death.
Today you had to die.”
But one day, knocked on his door,
A maiden with just one leg.
In her smile, his sanguine world,
Shattered like an egg.
Her gentle eyes took away his breath
And warmed his frozen heart.
His foulest thought, his lust for blood
Completely torn apart.
She said most innocently, through her smile
“On Chinese shall we dine?”
He drew out his phone and made the call
while she poured out the wine.
He looked at her with not a strife
And thought with a forlorn sigh,
‘Life is death and death is life
But today you shall not die.’
The night drew on, but he noticed not
Drowned deep within her eyes
But then stifled a cough, saying i should go
He then began to rise
At this point his eyes chanced upon
Her glass of wine so full
It soon hit him like a train,
Reality, cold and cruel.
His throat grew dry, his eyes grew red
He was clearly all but fine
Her smile turned to ice as she said,
“Well, how was the wine?”
The question ‘why?’ slipped from his mouth
And she did slowly reply:
“Death is life and life is death
And this time you shall die.”
She’d duped him, made out of him a fool
His past misdoings fed.
He looked up at her one last time
Then fell to the floor, dead.