I walked to the white gates in a daze
With bated breath, through a cloudy haze.
A man stood before me, giant book in hand,
“Where am I?” I asked, “I do not understand.”
“You are at the gates of Heaven,” the man said.
“I’m sorry, lad, but I’m afraid you are dead.”
“Dead!” I exclaimed, “But how can this be?”
“Lightning struck, and you were smashed by a falling tree.”
I stood dumbstruck. “No, no, no, you’re wrong,” I said,
“I remember this morning, I woke up in bed.
“I then went outside, a strong wind was blowing,
“But I looked around, no danger was showing.
“Wait, I remember a loud boom and a crash.
“And you say it was me that tree did smash?”
“I’m afraid so, my boy. And now you are here,
“At the gates of Heaven, and your judgment is near.”
“Who are you,” I asked, “That presumes to judge me?”
“Why, I am Saint Peter, holder of the key.”
Just then the unlocked padlock on the gate caught my sight
And it came to me what that key was for, with a fright.
“And if I am deemed unworthy to pass through the gates?”
“Just take a look down,” said he, “and see what waits.”
And so I did, and discovered a most troubling scene,
Men writhed in agony, emitting piercing screams.
Smoke and flame was all there was to see,
And to take the place of men in torture was where I could be.
“I’m sorry, Saint Peter,” I said hastily,
“I’m still dazed and my mind still feels a bit lazy.”
“It is okay, lad, what concerns me is in this book.
“I found much of it quite startling, after a look.
“It seems to me you never swore Christ as you savior.
“What am I to think,” said Peter, “of this behavior?”
Like a fool I stood, not knowing what to say,
Looking down at the hell that beneath my feet lay.
“I never said I worshipped Christ, this is true,
“But I always believed in him. Surely you knew!”
The man said angrily, “Do not presume to lie to me, boy.
“For me, your mind is but a mere child’s toy.
“I know your deepest thoughts, trust me I can see.
“But now you can redeem yourself, if you tell the truth to me.
I took a hard swallow, and tried to clear my head.
“Okay. What do you want to know?” I said.
He looked at me, and asked, “Why didn’t you believe in God?”
“I saw his intervention nowhere in the world, not even a nod.”
“But you never believed anything, no faith was in you.
“It did not need to be Christ, any faith would do.”
“I’m sorry, Saint Peter, I just never believed.
“But now I do, by my own self my mind was deceived!
“I see now how much I was wrong all my years,
“But now I believe, and for my ignorance I shed tears.
“Please,” I sobbed, “Good Saint Peter, let me in!
From now on, I will never doubt God again.”
Saint Peter just frowned at me. “Sorry, lad, it is too late.”
And then he turned around, and locked the gate.
