My Suicide

I died last night.
And after succumbing to the plight,
I woke up to a heaven which I’ve never worshiped.

Oh, stout and mighty were the pillars flanking the gate!
Had I lived of purer faith; I would have seen that my soul was too late.
So much to my displeasure now, I never dreamed it all to be true.

My eyes glazed over but without that dreaded, wakeful sting.
No, they were uncluttered of the sinful fog, now that they wanted to embrace the beautiful thing
that I had convinced myself never existed.

No! No, it is all true!
The pearls of my soul warmed to the light, and my soul for once felt forever free!
No longer is there any doubt! I’ve lived a good life and that’s all that matters.

Forgiven I must be for never accepting the light.
Do my eyes tell the sin of lies only because they’re in fright?
As I gaze on into the light?

Somehow the shining seems impenetrable to these deceased eyes,
is it hell I gaze into?
I reach out my frigid hand to bathe in its warmth.

But a sudden burning sensation ravaged my hand.
It was so violent I withdrew,
and upon bringing my hand back, I noticed it was charred black.

My eyes raised back up into the light
and I came to realize it was white-hot flames,
not a second more were there of my pains.

I then noticed the pillars erected around me were coal-black,
and the light that shown behind them
radiated in hues of yellow and orange like fire.

My deceased eyes tell terrible truths I had not believed in life.
Then a cold wind assaulted my body,
turning my skin into ice.

So, this is what the end looks like.
My soul charred, icy,
nevermore a conviction of fallacies!