Naive creatures

In hell, we wait dreaming
of heaven,
oblivious that we
don’t deserve such a
place.
We have loved more, yet
not enough.
We have sinned too, but that was
not enough.
We have cared more, yet
not enough.
We’ve had everything in
abundance, but that was
not enough.
In hell, we’re born, and
in hell, we die, dreaming
of heaven.
We have suffered, yet
not enough.
We have inflicted suffering, but that was
not enough.
We have cried begging for
forgiveness, yet
not enough.
In the depths of our
hearts, we have found
joy at other’s
misfortune, but that was
not enough.
Hell is the father,
hell is the mother, and
we dream of seeing a
god that we are not sure
exists.
Naive creatures we humans
are;
we sin like we are
atheists, and then
pray for forgiveness to
god — assure ourselves that
we’re forgiven — and sin
more as it’s never
enough.
Hell is our home,
hell is our grave;
in hell, we laugh, and
in hell, we cry.
In hell, we write poems and love
stories;
in hell, we make love, smoke
cigarettes, get
drunk, and sleep —
oblivious that there’s no
redemption —
in slumber, we’re still dreaming
of heaven.