PASCAL'S WAGER

My dying eyes have shut
To see no other day
In spite I curse my heart
The life I put astray

As decades withered by
I was so sure of truth
As life, it passed me by
I chose to be the fool.

Knowledge was not out of reach for my mind
Yet with every day, was what I denied.
I had pledged my soul’s ascent to heaven
And left the fool to blame.

As minutes wither by
Recall too well my stubborn mind
My soul, it screams inside
No god to blame, nothing to spite

Pity not I who so recklessly took
All beauty in vain for the promise of riches afar.
No eternal heaven to repay all I had forsaken
Resisting my one chance, day after day

Heed not the futile burning of hatred inside
Of this tragic man that knows he shan’t arise.

No God nor Christ to turn to.
Death, she knows no lies
Looking back in horror at the choices that I made
To believe out of vanity, such strange a premise:

That in worshipping death, we shall arise to eternal life?
To deny our hearts for the fear of retribution
So that our weakness be rewarded with the key to paradise?
No God, no Christ, it is too late for me
Let my last whisper be a plea for our children to see
How absurd the faith in a man whose eye-sockets are black and hollow -

Knowledge was not out of reach of my mind
Yet even back then, for which I curse my own kind

If there was a god I hate him
For keeping me afraid and ashamed, of my own mind
For crawling on all four in distorted admiration, I deserve to die!
Surely there’s an afterlife, a second chance -
Anything but deathly lost with what I have to tell?
I wish that god is real because I choose to go to Hell!

Please don’t let me die
Anything that I would give to turn the wheel of time!
No tunnel of light as my pleas turn to coughs
Nothing!
Nothing!
Blackness at the edge of a terror not white
Is this all my soul is worth?
God, I curse
All this pain and no revenge.