In this individualistic age

Why should I be constrained

By organised religious belief,

In my assessment of what the After Life

Has in store?

I used to believe that when we die

We’d be just so much compost on the floor,

Now I’m convinced that there must be more.

I hanker after Elysian Fields,

Perfumed gardens with laurel leaves,

An army of angels mopping my brow.

I’m a prophet of reincarnation, now!

 

As needs must, as time moves on,

After due consideration of what serves

My current cause, so travels my mind.

In the beginning there was wishful thinking,

In the end there was a tentative creed!

 

I’ve decided not to bother with sin.

No, not the commission part,

I will own up to plenty of that!

Just the acknowledgement part

And the retribution features as well.

According to my new belief systems,

Those aspects of sin can all go to hell!

I am bound for heaven, guaranteed

This sinner needs due access to heaven

And, for me, it’s each according to their need.

 

Why should a mere heart attack end my story?

There must be more, after all this glory!