A knock at the death's door.
The hags squinted eyes to look at their new companion.
He was so puny, not compatible.
The walls mocked at him,
His steps echoing through the deadly hushed alley.
Subdued him by constant murmurs.
This was completely different,
People with burns, people with cuts,
Many had henious marks, flesh hanging loose from body.
He wanted to *****, but his body was off the limits.
The guards of death poked him,
Urging him to move.
The hall was stuffed, horrifying voices shook it.
'Ah! One more kid. I am tired of such cases.' The voice came from the centre.
'Explain, kid?' The voice was monotonous.
'I was to go heaven. I don't belong here.' He shrieked.
'You are not to decide where to go. There's no free will here.'
He was pious, always inclined towards good,
Then why such a harsh punishment.
'Kid you were mistaken when you wasted what was most precious.' The king said.
He wasn't wrong.
God had been wrong to him, giving him miseries at every path.
Did he do anything to suffer that much. No.
Living was better than dying.
'Millions more thought the same. And you belong to the same lot.
You had fifty more years to enjoy and look, now where does it make you land.'
A thousand years weren't a short period to ponder over his crime.
It pained him every time,
Thinking of many things he could have been a part of.
Some spontaneous decisions can make us regret for eternity.