The Day Of Reckoning Poem by Bironga Chadwick

I was always told when you die...
You will meet your maker eye to eye,
All your wrongs you better have an answer for,
If you want to enter heaven's door.

Today came way to soon,
My heart sang its last tune,
I stood waiting to be viewed,
Hoping he was in a good mood.

My hands uncontrollably shaking,
I didn't know this was going to be my waking.
I stood in this long line,
Staring at the 'Judgement Day' sign.

My turn came too quick,
I felt like I was going to be sick.
Walking before him...
Lights went dim...
His eyes pierced through me,
There was nothing he couldn't see.
Looking me up and down,
He shook his head, his face had a frown.
My mind went blank, nothing to think
Looking at me His eyes never did once blink.
Maybe he saw all my flaws
And then suddenly he came to a pause,
His voice so intimidatingly loud,
' There is a lot, young man, that you have endowed. '
He was right so far,
My body itself testament with many a scar.

'How would you judge your own soul? ' He spoke.
I looked at him almost confused as the silence I broke
Hoping His wrath I couldn't provoke
Mistakes I had made, plenty for sure...
Some of which I couldn't find no cure.

Then my life came in a flash-
I had always struggled with wrong and right,
And it was one hell of a fight.
I had to set my own belief
And to my burdens this was my biggest relief.
But here I was being damned to hell,
And be cast under the devil's spell,
To own and control my soul,
Which had failed in its supposed priestly role.

Tell me, Lord, you are the JUDGE...you decide...
Where do you think my soul should reside?