Judgemental Gates

I often thought of the heaven gates that they would be cruel, like sharp blades. I dreamt of a ladder and a mountain path that would lead me to an account of my life. The entrance was there – a silent, murky fence. The trial was looming in fog and reverence. I met God’s servants…

A Soul Torn Apart

Murder there was under shrouds of night. A soul was damaged, torn apart. To the ground, to its mighty core, when the man sold it for glory, he was there, but there was he no more.