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I haven't written a poem in ages, but today a writing prompt struck my fancy I ended up writing 15 stanzas. 

I know usually the posts in here are uplifting and beautiful.  But this one... well, it was written in response to this prompt:

It always fascinated me how deep sea predators use bioluminescence to lure in their prey. It's a shame that humans never consider this when they go into the light on their deathbed.

So then, this is a re-imagining of heaven and hell as being Lovecraftian monsters that lure in the spirits of the dead with "the light" for the purpose of devouring them.  It's meant to be darkly humorous.  There's some truly terrible theology in here, as well.   


Don't Go to the Light

I've read about the warmth and bright,
and how it cheers a soul. 
The idea? 
It sounds fine.

But when I searched most earnestly,
I found it burns and blinds.
Enlightenment? 
No, horrors.

And so I've always found my peace
within the dimmer corners.
In paperbacks.
In my head.

So that is why I did not go,
when summoned from my deathbed.
My epilogue...
What's my plight?

I saw men's souls fly from the earth
and vanish to the sunlight. 
Their books? Complete. 
Final breaths.

I wondered if there was no more
for men than this in deaths.
Unrewarded
For our strife?

Does the phoenix of the sun
not give to men new life?
Oblivion.
Not raising?

And just as I began to fear,
there came another blazing. 
Unlike the first. 
Fiery.

It danced with red and orange and gold,
with a blackness mainly.
Insidious.
Unnerving.

And those few souls which had remained
flocked to Hades swerving.
Moths to the flame.
Self-frying.

In fire unquenched that bellowed forth
from that great worm undying.
Condemnation?
Nihilists.

The worm he does not turn despite
how my protest persists.
Can spirits hear?
Answers none.

This was scarcely odd because
they'd eaten everyone.
Heaven or hell?
Both monsters.

Incubi of final hours
eating ever-afters.
Sharks and vultures!
They follow.

I'd rather stay a ghost on earth
than by the heav'ns swallowed.
Go to the light?
God forbid.

QuoteIt always fascinated me how deep sea predators use bioluminescence to lure in their prey. It's a shame that humans never consider this when they go into the light on their deathbed.

Somehow, this reminds me of Dylan Thomas:

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rage at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
...
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.