Heaven is in Poverty

Heaven is in Poverty

A Poem by astoundinglyattractive

I was once an Angel.

Let me tell you, if you’ll lend me an ear, what this place you call Heaven is like.

When your soul first rises, if it has the honour of doing so,

(and of course, it hasn’t, if you’re listening to my tale)

you will find yourself surrounded by white-winged angels.

(yes, yes, only white. he is one for appearances, after all.)

When you reach the-

(yes, mine were black and red)

As I was saying, when you reach the Golden Gates, the white-winged ang-

(they save those with darker wings for the seasoned dwellers, now, please, let me continue)

When you reach the Golden Gates of Heaven, the white-winged angels fly off, up and over the tiers.

As they disperse, a man is revealed to you,

(yes you all already know this part, but please let me go on for the sake of fluidity)

He is tall or short, and fat or thin- he is old or young, and clean-shaven or bearded.

The man pulls from within his layered white cloak a thin, blank scroll,

And this scroll, he places in your eagerly awaiting hands.

Now he never speaks, this strange, ever-changing, welcoming man,

And he only waits for you

And when you slowly unroll the scroll, three words appear-

the language of the holy, a language you will never learn.

Despite the foreign words, deep down in your heart, you will always know what it means,

And the man will take the scroll from you, and those three words he will read.

You will not know this, for you all were banished before ever entering the gates

But those three words you couldn’t read, they were your one true name.

 

Now for those of who had what they call the fortune of rising,

The man will open the golden gates, allowing entrance- and the sight is entrancing

Beauty, everywhere, surrounding you. The white winged angels sing for only you

And you follow the pearly street to meet him, and there he is with your crown,

There he is with your soul, and your flowing white gown.

And as you don these things, your destiny is tied-

Unless, of course, you wisely refuse- then your fate is as mine.

But most will accept, for they are still human in their ways,

And when they leave the castle, they will see no more sunny days.

Heaven is in poverty, and the inhabitants are starving-

For Heavens economy is based off of human faith.

But you simply can’t trust humans these days.

The backroads are dirty, and everyone is a beggar.

And as you walk down the streets, your once bright gown is quickly soiled.

Your crown is taken, as are the clothes on you back,

And everything is torn form you, so nothing you have.

You will join the beggars, you will join the thieves,

You will find yourself afraid to even lie and sleep.

And he will not care, for you are of no more concern.

He will just keep accepting, accepting more.

 

 

Do you want to know, why it is I came down here?

I challenged him and judged him, and shared my fears.

Now that he couldn’t accept, he is quite prideful after all,

And he would never accept that of an Angel who was winged with coal.

He persecuted and named me, accused me of tyranny,

And he stripped me of my wings and sent me falling.

The force of a fallen angel created a fission in the fiber of time

And your home was created, your home and mine.

Here we welcome everyone, and everyone is accepted,

Here we share the tales of things we have never regretted

Not all of us are evil, in fact most of us are wise

But he really must keep up with that faltering guise.

So here we are all, united for a cause, and this place you all call Hell

Is starting to do- against all odds- quite well.

Soon our hospitality may finally emerge

And they will all question everything they learned.

 

Heaven used to be great, I lived there once,

But these days Hell is better, for in Hell we do not judge.

© 2012 astoundinglyattractive


Author's Note

astoundinglyattractive
Someone please tell me if I insult them.
I don't want to insult anyone, i swear, and if I do I apologise.
I do believe in God, and I identify most with christian-
these are all metaphors, i love God- just not religion.

My Review

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Reviews

Going through each of your works one by one. I like that you have a steady continuous theme and you are very mindful of style. It all flows so well and I can really feel what you are saying. I can feel that you feel when you write it. Good work

Posted 11 Years Ago


Well in a word: Beautiful.

Posted 11 Years Ago


This is clearly refered to our real world.This certainly reveal the stark truth sorting our anxiety rolling over hell and heaven.One'll definitely change his general opinions reading your metaphors.Quality piece! Keep writing:-)

Posted 11 Years Ago


This is great. I love the narrative perspective :D I feel like this could be Lucifer speaking about when he was an angel... I'm not insulted. :) I'm Christian. Who cares what religion, no one should be judged. ;w;

Posted 11 Years Ago


I may not have reviewed your other writing, but I've read it all. You're so amazing dear. And I'm sure this poem (and others) will leave people who read it thinking.
I like this poem for the way that the narrator speaks to us and for the metaphor it contains. I love the last two lines:
"Heaven used to be great, I lived there once,
But these days Hell is better, for in Hell we do not judge."
And I'm sure you would know why, because it's something we've spend hours upon hours talking about before.


I hit my head on the corner of my laptop to read this. I hope your happy. D:

Posted 11 Years Ago



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5 Reviews
Added on June 26, 2012
Last Updated on July 3, 2012

Author

astoundinglyattractive
astoundinglyattractive

Six Feet Under, OH



About
Name: Elisa Age: 16 Gender: Female Height: 5'6" Country: America Sexuality: I like to consider myself a freelancer. Personality: I used to have one, but I think I lost it somewhere. I enjoy: d.. more..

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