Hell

Hell

I

While mourners stand and weep upon the Earth

Before Almighty God your soul is weighed.

His agents have been watching since your birth

And judgement can no longer be delayed.

Though dead you are awake to hear your fate

(Your disbelief confounded by events)

Thus while your corpse lies there inanimate

Your self-awareness never once relents.

He doesn't ask you why you turned away,

There is no chance to grin and make excuse,

Of course He knows already what you'd say,

He's heard it all before. It is no use.

Because you disbelieved you know quite well

Your final destination will be Hell.

II

A hideous devil with two goatish legs

Now grips you by the throat with vicious claws

And hurls you down among the howling dregs

Whose bodies reek with suppurating sores.

In darkness utter and impenetrable

Black flames sear your rotting flesh, yet preserve

That which they should consume. Despicable

To those you loved - this is what you deserve.

Your tortured brain now boiling in your skull,

Your tender eyes flaming like molten balls,

Your bowels a red-hot mass of burning pulp,

While round your limbs a gnarly serpent coils.

Time is, Time was, but Time shall be no more -

How temporary was your life before.

III

The congregation kneels in reverence

Their mobile phones on silent. Now the priest

Salutes the tabernacle with incense

And celebrates this Mass for the deceased.

Men of science, doctors, astronomers

Acquainted with the movements of the spheres

Now offer up their mediaeval prayers

And try to quell their own preposterous fears.

Electric lights don't dim the candles' flames

Nor does reason vanquish dark nightmares

Wherein a smug triumphant Satan claims

Their souls and promptly burns them with the tares.

Above the church the single, tolling bell

Reminds the world that man created Hell.

Heaven

I

While mourners stand and weep upon the Earth

Before Almighty God your soul is weighed.

His agents have been watching since your birth

So judgement need no longer be delayed.

Though dead, this does not come as a surprise -

More like your first day in the Infant Class -

Of course, it takes time to acclimatise,

Collect your robes and show your shining pass.

The gates swing open through white whorls of cloud

While angels ranked in scintillating tiers

Burst into voice and chant your name out loud,

Waving approval with their dazzling spears.

Their loud ovations glorify your soul

Inviting you to celebrate your goal.

II

Echoing the chorus angelorum,

Saints and sinners purged of all their fault

Joyfully abandon all decorum,

Their welcome flashing like a lightning bolt.

You have been good. You have believed in Truth.

Your secret charity at last bears fruit.

Enter the realm of your eternal youth

(That selflessness was actually astute).

But even now you don't succumb to pride,

Your goodness always was its own reward,

And though your life has now been sanctified

You dedicate each moment to the Lord.

Your modesty is infinite despite

The power of approbation to delight.

III

The congregation kneels in reverence

Their mobile phones on silent. Now the priest

Salutes the tabernacle with incense

And celebrates this Mass for the deceased.

Men of science, doctors, astronomers,

Acquainted with the world of isotopes,

Now offer up their mediaeval prayers

And try their best to cling to childish hopes.

Can candle flames outshine electric lights,

Or sense of self survive beyond the grave?

Do angels guard you through the darkest nights

And plead indulgence when you misbehave?

Outside the church the monotonic chime

Holds promise of a destiny sublime.