I don't want to go to Heaven.
Not because it isn't beautiful.
But because it is.
Because it's perfect.
Because it never ends.
What if I wake up there, and no one is waiting?
No laughter, no touch, no voices calling my name,
just a flawless sky
and the sound of nothing.
Even if it isn't,
what happens when I've done everything?
When I've sung every song, walked through every garden,
known every secret, felt every joy?
And yet, I still exist.
Still conscious.
Still there.
Surrounded by beauty, but utterly alone or done with everything.
No struggle. No chaos.
Just peace, polished into a mirror
where I see only myself or nothing
and the eternity behind my eyes.
Hell is fire.
But this... this is ice.
This is the slow drowning in light.
I'm afraid of that.
Of forever.
Of silence that smiles.
Of a paradise
with no people left or nothing to do.