Eternity’s Mist

To the saint, it is a travesty that there is no Heaven.
To the sinner, it is a relief that there is no Hell.
I walk through Eternity’s mist, looking for a sign of anything… anyone…
But there is nothing but the light and the mist.
I am walking on something, aren’t I?
The mist doesn’t just settle on vast emptiness, does it?
I kneel down, and feel what I think should be the ground.
The mist bothers my eyes.
I have eyes. And hands to feel, legs to bend with.
So I keep walking through the mist, never stopping.

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