it was my day,
my time had come at long last,
i was going on to pay,
for crimes and sins of long past.

i was pulled out of my body,
as if leashed on an invisible hook,
i felt no happiness and not at all moody,
for this was predictable eventhough many years it took.

i walk towards the gate forboding and huge,
where st peter stood smiling and waiting,
he opened a book and let out a deluge,
of everyting i did while is stood there hating.

listening to my own acts and thoughts,
for which i was now to beg repentance,
while my body in my grave rots,
i was here waiting for acceptance.

it was all finally over,
the book was closed and replaced at last,
st peter stood there looking me over,
i stood cowering like the wind on a mast.

he bore through me with his eyes,
i lowered my gaze to the ground,
i knew there was no escape with lies,
i had just myself to curse and pound.