The light shines dim in the forlorn room
In my very heart
and deep down in the gloominess of my soul
The time has come at last to meet my creator.
I am but a man devoid of faith, love and inviolability.
The fear of no life to live for is replaced
by something so very paradoxical
As to whether there would be life after death.
That was the condition i was in at the moment
For a man who has nothing to hope for in the future
will have no faith, love or inviolability
The conviction that i had in my mentor
was replaced by a perverse hunger to witness
my creator surrounded by his angels in chorus.
The operation meant everything
the victim the rest
The time of judgement
was scheduled at 8 in the morning.
Dawn crawled at the pace of snails
Time, like that of a drugged sloth.
Is it a sin for a man to ask for a quick, decent death?
I became aware of this question in my head
the tenth time it repeated itself.
I wondered why fate had to be so fastidious
with this worthless cadaver of mine.
Someone once told me that death was like flying.
I wondered if i would be flying
into the eternal kingdom of my creator
in the few hours to follow.
Chances of survival were minimal they had said
It was in a way an immense reassurance.
Why live at the mercy of scavenging vultures,
when the kingdom of the great one
beckoned so deliciously in the distance?
Drawing closer with every tick of the second hand.
It was time for the judgement to be passed.
The white coated angels of mercy
had already entered the death house, they called a private ward
I watched them wheel in my coffin
What they called a stretcher.
They helped me into it
i was a step closer to death with the help they provided.
For a moment i felt indebted to them!
They then placed upon me, my shroud
what they called the theater sheet
I was being wheeled toward my destiny.
I could feel the bequest left for me by my father in the heavens
I felt saturated
as the rays of my legacy shown through me
Time was fast approaching
I felt i could wait no longer.
The preparation room for the afterlife-the theater.
I was wheeled in
dressed in heaven's attire
The white coated angel stared down at me
and smiled reassuringly.
Almost as if to declare that the heavens were just
a few miles and hours away.
I felt the mask of sleep being held at my mouth
Preparations had reached a point of utmost scrutiny
There lay no liberty for the gaffe of hand
The sacrificial lamb was almost ready.
The last obsession within my drowning self
was how well my father would receive me
The last memory clip i had imprinted in my mind
was of the angel beside me raising into space
the apparatus of eternal life
The scalpel as they called it.
Minutes ticked by and i felt myself enter an alien environment
The angels on earth had lost their battle
against my father's angels.
I step foot onto the alien grounds
the light of life strikes me
and it fills me with the beautiful radiance of the afterlife.