Inactive GHOST Fan

As my mortal body decomposes beneath the ground, and I appear up at Heaven's shining gates, floating on feathered white wings, I will not be greeted in with open arms. The angels will surround me, their looks of disappointment above my face, blocking out the pale blue sky. They shall read my every word, spoken from this account, in a chorus only described as unholy, despite who sings in it. And when they finish, they will only stare down at me with empty eyes, and I will be pushed from the clouds to burn in the depths of Hell, writhing in my regrets, for my eternity. No chance of redemption is found here, just the forever burning fires; and it will not be the pain of my punishment that causes my sobs, but the thought that I could have stopped it, and that I foolishly continued on instead.