An undecided soul stands lonely and hopeful before a gate.

Great things could come from either option, not all saintly.
Although the chance to make this choice is an act of fate,
The decision lays solely in the soul's hands. He recalls, faintly,
Every lesson of right and wrong he's been taught, and ponders,

Thinking of his options, weighing pros and cons. The right thing,
Oh that's clear, but the best choice in his eyes still quivers

Here and there. To turn back and try again, or to fling
Earnestly his soul into the depths behind the gate-
Lessons ring in deaf ears already sold to the darkness.
Lost is a soul who chooses to enter a gate to hell.