Iím coasting through the pearly-white gates,
Since I was born and bred in a good Christian home.
My ancestry is Christian through and through,
Christian blood flows in my blessed veins.
Iím guaranteed access into blissful Paradise,
Because I was christened as a youngster;
A most holy priest administered my momentous baptism,
Iíve my treasured credential in my adorned folder.
Iím breezing through celestial immigration;
For Iíve never missed a single church service in my lifetime.
Cathedrals, chapels, and auditoriums all testify;
All my pastors past and present can verify.
Iím taking only a moment at heavenís port,
Surely all my bountiful good works report.
Charity is my name; benignity my revered surname,
A thousand foundations bear my name.
I pity some of these poor fellows on the queue,
Who donít seem to have a clue.
Obviously they wonít pass through;
It appears they donít have the relevant papers.
Quietly the immigration officer receives my passport;
With just a quick glance he reports,
ďSorry you canít be admitted into the Holy City-invalid document.Ē
ĎDenied Entryí is stamped in crimson red on my prized passport.
Exhaling in desperation, disbelief, and despair,
I pass out on the counter in a flash.
The officerís stinging definitive words,
Echo eerily in my ears, reverberating into my torturous eternity.
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