Pay Here

They lay in wait, hidden,
like a spider in its web.
For that very first second,
of you being dead.

Long bony fingers,
brush over your soul.
Hoping that they catch,
whilst it's still whole.

All those evil deeds,
you did throughout your life.
Like the other week,
when you killed your wife.

A thousand times plus,
now its time to pay.
Not one single decision,
you don't get a say.

Harps and heralding angels?
Not much chance of that.
They would like to boil you,
steamed in hells large vat.

Let me tell you one thing,
I could briefly mention.
If you don't serve time in life,
in death you do detention.

Written Oct 15, 2007