As I Stand

Wandering through the mist,
Past the murmurs of life,
At the gates of Heaven, there I shall stand.
There I shall meet myself for the first time,
There I shall stand and listen to what,
I have to say.
I shall listen to the awful sins committed,
In vain, against others,
For love, against me,
Pleasure, against pleasure.
I shall judge myself like no other,
Who knew me better.
Too late is remorse,
Too late for sorrow,
There is no more time for me as I stand,
There I shall stand and be denied access,
Denied peace, love and pleasure,
Of which I ignored far too long.


Here comes the mist,
Here come the voices of death,
Pain, Anger, Hate.
Loud anger, so clear,
I cannot forget I am dead.