A Hypothesis About Our Afterlife

The purpose of the study
Is to eliminate the weak
And the unfit.

You spend more hours now
Burning every belief
Checking every dogma
Testing the hypothesis
Whether it can withstand
The crucible test of truth

Because truth is exacting
You stretch everything possible
Nights become days
And the hours drag like
A ball of steel

The Day of Judgment comes
Your were measured
And you fall short of their
Expectations

“You are out! ” that is what they say.
You pack up your things
You take back your wits
You swallow that wisdom
In defeat

You go where fate takes you.
Now it is the wind that works for you.
It is your feet that carries you
Your mind your wings
Your body your vessel

Now you have faith.
Now there is no worry.
Now you know the truth.
There is no work.

Just heaven.
There is no Hell.
Just love. Just love.
It is all there is.
Nothing more.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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