A silent hall where jackal shadows wait,
To greet the soul that travels from the light;
He stands before the heavy, golden gate,
Within the stillness of the endless night.
A single heart is placed upon the scale,
Against the feather of a truth divine;
The traveler’s face is ghostly thin and pale,
As ancient eyes begin to glow and shine.
If heavy with the weight of hidden sin,
The Great Devourer waits to claim the prize;
But if the spirit’s light is found within,
A path to fields of reeds begins to rise.
The god of embalming keeps the holy score,
Between the silence and the evermore.
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