Beckon the lost soul.
Come to where we lay the wreath.
For your endless pain.
Reward the end of your grief.
And Albert moved on through the sky.
Where choirs of angels sang.
"O' joy welcome, the soul" they cry.
"Welcome Albert" their voices rang.
"To the kingdom of heaven you come,
Bearing tidyings of love to him on his throne,
Where his glory will fill your heart, strong one,
Come, to the kingdom of heaven, rest so,"
And the angels, with their robes and halos,
they viewed Albert as a noble son to be praised.
Their faces, like his, like the humans that lay low,
Beneath, as his beloved, ripped from him stays.
And on an endless expanse of white, Albert steps.
The singing lows to a hum as he walks.
To a small gate, like the one to eden I suspect.
Where an old man waits at the fork.
"Not many people see this young man,
you are here to be judged for your sins."
"And of the crowd, around, are they part of this plan?
To see my past before me, torn out from within."
Click, his fingers went and the angels were gone.
In a blink they had left from his sight.
"I don't enjoy hurting a fragile man, so calm,
be calm and don't worry, nor fight.
I am merely an observer who listens and will speak,
I suspect you're a man who tried his best.
I have faith you will be given a chance at the peak,
To enter. Now, to the rest."
Albert clenched and unclenched his fists, but did not find the strength,
to move from one spoke to the next.
To pass on from this life, and move to the penthouse.
And take his place in the eternal breast.
"What is your name?" the man asked.
"Albert, and yours?" "I am Peter.
I am serving as the eyes for the kingdom of heaven.
And for you, consider me your praetor."
"Like an administrator?" Albert asked, his eyes feigning interest.
"Exactly! Like one of those with a process to follow."
"I see." Albert said. And with that, he was silent.
And Peter began, aware of Alberts heartfelt sorrow.
"You are guilty of many, but proven false in none.
Your story is not one to be ridiculed or held,
In contempt, I find you quite lacking,
To love, I see in your body given to dwell."
Albert began. "I have betrayed, I have hurt, I have lied.
I have done nothing to deserve a place amongst the stars.
I feel I have done everything wrong in my life.
There is nothing to be proud in those memoirs."
"If your story were different, I would agree.
For now I can say that's not true.
But arguing is a game for fools on the ground.
So, with passage, to heaven I grant to you.
With serenity you accepted your mothers cruel words.
With courage you faced a fathers wrath.
Your own friends, you decried, but you fought and you loved.
And to their fates, I have no kind words, for what they have."
An angel believes that Albert is worth saving.
Albert believes he is wrong.
And even Peter could not stop this fate that was caving,
Into a hole in Alberts mind made unsound.
But Peters eyes had risen to above.
As a single black form in the white.
Was looking back down, unflinching to he,
who would judge those souls on their flight.
And he raised his hands as his the angels had appeared.
Their armour clinched up in the beyond.
And a flash of darkness, stole sight from the heavens.
And Albert appeared by a pond.
The end was not there.
The flight was at an end.
From where had Albert been thrown?
To the confusing becoming,
of a baby lay bear,
Albert, on his back all alone.
