All this time the chaplain
Never felt in the right place,
Knowing those he should be there for,
Are now in hell, and he in heaven.
In his life he told the death rows
They could go to heaven too,
If they chose but love 'bove hate,
As hell and heaven are no more.
But when his own time came,
Each was held still in place,
As before he loved the sinners,
He'd hate the righteous now.
Then he knows how hatred
Can be another form of love,
He could've only loved them
As part of them was in himself.
He knows now where to find hell:
Within the hate inside himself.
And giving good up just as evil,
Finds the border twixt the two.
Hell opens to him in heaven,
And as heat and cold together come,
Now the storm begins to spiral,
That's to make them into one.
When the war then brings the masses
To palace of Devil and of God,
On their thrones they find but mirrors
That show each other through open doors.
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