What if I got to Heaven’s doors—
unhinged; the hinges crying
_screee—eeech_ as an angel played
the interludes to my history.
Unhindered now by resentment’s rust,
but knowing I’d used my last chance
to be repentant.
_…knock, knock, knock._
The sound echoed into nothing.
Silence— so loud it bruised the air.
And then, from within the echo,
a voice: “My child… I never met you.”
A so-called to a so-called faith,
feeding on my reflection— my pride,
my lust, my greed, the same mirror of ******
the sin of loving my own image more than God.
_…creak._
The door opened slightly.
No angels. No light.
Only a mirror— cold, cracked, staring back.
And there He asked, not in thunder, but
in stillness: “would you let this person in?”
The mirror quivered.
My breath fogged its truth. And I, trembling
between Heaven and self, whispered back—
“would you let yourself in?”
Oct 26, 2025
Oct 26, 2025 at 4:44 PM UTC
What if I got to Heaven’s doors—
unhinged; the hinges crying
_screee—eeech_ as an angel played
the interludes to my history.
Unhindered now by resentment’s rust,
but knowing I’d used my last chance
to be repentant.
_…knock, knock, knock._
The sound echoed into nothing.
Silence— so loud it bruised the air.
And then, from within the echo,
a voice: “My child… I never met you.”
A so-called to a so-called faith,
feeding on my reflection— my pride,
my lust, my greed, the same mirror of ******
the sin of loving my own image more than God.
_…creak._
The door opened slightly.
No angels. No light.
Only a mirror— cold, cracked, staring back.
And there He asked, not in thunder, but
in stillness: “would you let this person in?”
The mirror quivered.
My breath fogged its truth. And I, trembling
between Heaven and self, whispered back—
“would you let yourself in?”
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