the Gate from I by Skeltima

To see the fruits I've grown
From the seeds that I've sown
In tainted soil, bloodied by regret
I cannot bear to look anymore

Standing at the feet of the final monolith
I lift my head in great awe of the Gate
Am I permitted to enter?
Might I be turned away?

The river's fallen still
No current through these veins
I wish never to see the faces
Of those that I've dismayed

A treatment of stares through the patchwork of souls
Granted a look past the ether
Upon sin after sin

Waiting my turn outside the Gate
To be led down the gilded corridors
What judgement awaits me?

A hood covered guide makes its way my direction
Features obscured in the shroud
He beckons me forward

Seated in a room without a door
The wordless one lifts a pale finger to the wall
A presentation
A catalog of all my misdeeds

Shackled to eons, eyes once glazed and tepid
Widened, withering and drying before each doomed beginning
Father after father, mother after mother, glistening in newborn vision
And growing, and learning, and dying
All at my hands
Sin after sin
And after all, I couldn't bear their burdens in life
A life at expense of death after death

A vicious theft of all that was good and pure
A seat just beyond the Gate
A room with no door

My river stands still
Cold blood in these veins
How many precious lives have ended
At the hands of my disdain?

Stained hands, eyes burned for centuries
Life after life, sorrow after sorrow
Might I repent?

Cell is darkened but for a stray beam
A holy column of light at the end of time
A rope placed in both hands
So I might see as my strength holds

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