The Cosmic Gradebook

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When breath is gone and eyes grow still,
The soul awakens by its will.
No heaven crowned, no hellish flame —
But stars that whisper your true name.

Fourteen worlds in every star,
Each a class — near or far.
Not by faith, nor gold, nor prayer,
But by the soul's own truth laid bare.

Higher souls in radiant light,
Do not judge, but guide by sight.
They reach below with silent care,
To lift the ones still climbing there.
To help all souls, forgive their past,
A beautiful heart, a love to cast.

Some souls must walk the Earth again,
To cleanse through grief, to learn through pain.
They veil their light, forget their path,
And fall to ego, pride, or wrath.

And still the truth remains intact:
There are two worlds — Light and Black.
No book decides, no voice declares —
Your grade is written in your layers.

The Dark is cold, where lost ones stray,
The Light is warm — a clearer way.
But none are trapped, and none are cursed,
Each soul must simply quench its thirst.

For God is not a king on high,
But all pure souls — unified.
No hand will push, no law will shove,
Only purity, choice, and love.

The stars are stops, not resting thrones,
No soul forever stays alone.
We rise, we fall, we strive, we grow,
In worlds that teach what we must know.

Earth and sky — our sacred place,
To polish light, to shed disgrace.
So walk with care, and guard your flame —
The soul you shape becomes your name.

And when you leave this earthly dome,
You'll find — in truth —
You're heading home.

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