Who wants my soul when all is done?
Where’s best to rest up when I’ve gone?
Have I the choice of heaven or hell?
A gilded cloud, a tortured cell.
To sit with God as shining light,
Or plunged in dark eternal night?
What’s made in life decides my fate
The seas of blood? The pearly gate?
Both sides will vie to reap my soul
To boost their ranks, to gain control
Of all that is or ever was
Wrapped up in wings or demons claws.
A death so calm to light my way.
Hope springs to mind for my last day.
But once again my question’s polled
When all is done, who wants my soul.