Hell And Heaven Poem by David Mitchell

Although my eyes were open, yet I dream'd;
Was borne by ghastly spirits into a trance,
Wherein I saw darkness, and was afraid.
I dream'd that I had left my brittle frame,
And was in hell. I did not feel its fires,
But saw the agony that kills the damn'd
In hell, the lake of fire, their second death.
I pitied them, and saw how swiftly joy
Inverted is to horror, or despair.
Is this for me? I shuddered to think.
It is what I deserve, nor less nor more:
It is far worse than this life, though it seems
At times as if 'tis hard to tell. For torment
Appears at times to reign not only in hell,
But also in this world. It cannot be
That we should never suffer in this life,
For if we never suffer'd, were it possible
In this life not to suffer, and were there
No death (for death brings suffering) here either,
Then what need would there be for any more?
How would a heaven be possible? But this,
Although 'tis not the best world that could be,
Is likewise not the worst. For if it were,
There would be no need of a hell hereafter,
Even as there would be no need of a heaven.

The spirits seem'd to fade and disappear,
As if I had not seen them; but the tears
That swift flow'd from my eyes, ceased not to gush;
The sobbing of my soul slow'd, not yet stopping;
I knew not how to fend away the fiends,
The horde of devils that plagued me then, and still
Assail me when it pleases them. How swift
Is joy inverted to despair! How hard
It sometimes is to think that hell is worse
Than this! How easy then to realize
That heaven is better! What more can I say?
Devils assail me and those who surround me,
Whose cruel sarcasm cuts like a knife
Of shining steel. They tense the very air
In which I breathe, in which I walk, unless
The melancholy air shall be made clean,
And pure, and fresh, and bright, as is the summer
When not a wisp the utter purity
Of heaven can destroy, as now, when heat
Streams from the sun in an unbroken course:
Would God my mind were likewise free from gloom!
Perhaps one day the calmness I recall
From some scarce visited cavern in my mind
Shall come to me once more. Perhaps that day
I shall be happy, maybe for one day.
One day! alas! what then? the joy is over,
And melancholy haunts me. Death remains
Thereafter to look forward to, and by
The grace of God my sins which are as scarlet
Shall be made white as snow: the grace of God!
The thought of latent joy renders me tranquil,
Courageous to fight fiends that once did haunt me,
And but a short while since. I see the placid
And summery sky outside; and it is happy.
Why should not I be? If I could be so,
I would: what does this word mean, 'happiness'?
I think I do remember: happy once
Upon a time, I may be so again
Surely? Why should not I be? Am I? No.
And why? Perhaps because I have a mind
And will, to displease others or myself.
Am I a selfish person? None have said so,
And none, I hope, have thought so, save for me,
Who know better than others what I am,
Sorrowful and unhappy. And to see others
Spiteful and nagging rends my soul apart,
Or so at least it feels. Endless tomorrows
Are stretch'd before me, till the final summons
To the dread judgement seat. May I not perish
Then, as I feel as if I perish now:
May my name not be wiped out from the book
Of everlasting life; and may we all
Be guided whither none of us deserve.

(Saturday,10th June,2006.)