Eternal Unrest.

When death stretches your eyelids,
so tight you don’t have time to rewind,
to have tea with your demons,
to repent and regret and relinquish yourself, 
they stay rigoured,
a forced awakening of your last moments. 

Only a life of sin would force your eyes open upon death, as if to say,
“watch yourself burn.”  

An afterlife of eternal unrest,
reserved for the wicked. 

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