Death Fantasia

          Death lays his icy hands on me,
          He leads me into
          His purple altar called Venue
          "Have a rendezvous with the demons
          See where the victor-victim bleeds,
          Your head will be shish kebab tonight
          Your life has been measured with a soup spoon,"
          A computer voice said.

          Though I have wept, wept and prayed
          I saw my own head brought in upon a platter,
          Am I still the same headhunter
          Who has built career navigator?
          Tonight my own head will be grilled.

          The music in the altar becomes intense
          My head is in the center of fire,
          Tears dripped on the burning wood
          Like a crying candle
          My head is bloody but unbowed.
          Tell me if
          "TONIGHT IS THE NIGHT?"
          Tell me if you attended
          The wedding of body and brain last night
          When the flesh met the soul?

          "WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?
          The demon screamed.
          With a pipe hanging from his mouth.
          I am, I am just asking
          If this soul ever had a rendezvous with my skin?
          If my hand ever touched the sin?
          If the silhouette of the my curves
          Ever went down with the sun in the west?
          I am just asking
          If romance should be selfish
          Please answer me
          If the Sunday bath in the Babylon bay
          Should be shamed?
          I am just asking
          If intellectual hatred is the worst
          Why everyone carries a head walking?"

          My vacant brain filled with gay ideas
          But the demons do not want any thoughts in my head
          They say the taste won't be tender.
          "We want the empty ones
          This head is too complicated
          The verses she made are not structured"
          One little demon yells in a sharp, high pitched tone:
          "Too much brain, too mach gravy!
          This mind has a thousand eyes!"

          Another demon opened wide his eyes,
          With a blanket wrapped around his head
          He disagreed
          "This mind has mountains and cliffs
          We can make CRAZY SALAD out of these
          Dimpled cheeks, oh, how funny!"

          There was another deep hoarse voice
          Came from a demon philosopher,
          "I have met her in her previous life
          In a tribe on the silk road.
          She was dancing in her red shoes
          Spreading her green skirt
          It was her, I can not be mistaken"
          I was surprised at what he said
          And whispered to him:
          "Fill your cup with my soul
          Although I can not call you my soul mate"

          Soon the feast was done,
          The King of demons came down
          "You fool, kneel now, make a prayer,
          your salvation will come soon."

          With a broken neck,
          I knelt upon the silken stool,
          I heard my inner pleading voice
          "Oh, God, be merciful to me, I am a fool!
          No pity, my lord, could change the heart.
          There is only one eye in my heart
          I can not change its color from red to deadly white
          Can not exchange innocence with sin."

          " My lord, can you hear my prayer?
          I was kidnapped by the villains
          When I took my nap.
          The code of my life is buried with the Egyptian mummies,
          Only a kiss from a frog prince can repair my neck
          My lord, let me have my eyes back,
          You told me that
          I have a pair of poet's eyes
          My lord, let me have my voice back
          You told me that
          I could sing like a nightingale
          I could write songs about angles in heaven
          My lord, let me have my ears back
          So I can hear the cries from the wild
          My lord, remember that night
          When I was thirteen,
          Under the moon
          I struck a deal with you
          That if you returned my vision and my voice back
          I would walk on the blades of knives"

          The altar was hushed in silence
          I see my whole body rising from the smoke
          Appearing on a big wall computer screen
          Then the programming code showed up line after line
          I see that my life has been repaired

          My blood is circulating to the head
          But where is my frog prince?
          WHERE IS MY FROG PRINCE?

          My cries echoing in the ghostly alter:
          "THOUT LOVE,
          I WOULD RATHER BE DEAD!"

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