All hope abandon, ye who enter here...
I am man and are we not seeds of Adam, open to temptation and sin just for we are lacking in spiritual strength? Yet to succumb is to condemn ourselves to eternal separation from Him; banished to that dark and desolate place where there is nothing but torture and pain.
Only through purification of the soul may a spirit ascend to the celestial Paradise.
Ascension of the mountain frees man of the filth and wounds of sin, for to sin is to stain, to err is to tarnish and a soul needs to cleanse before it may be forgiven, for whilst it remains imperfect, blighted by the blemish of vice, it may not ascend to the heavenly realms.
Death is not the end, for the natural progression is resurrection. And our natural home is the celestial Paradise, which is Heaven above.
A melodious harmony infiltrates my ears as nectar to a hummingbird, for this is the Music of the Spheres, created by the revolution of the planets, each of which produces a musical note so exquisite, of such sweetness, I weep at its perfection. We soar, ascending into the atmosphere, for Beatrice guides my soul and its ascension unto God, journeying upwards from the Earthly Paradise as arrows in flight, towards the celestial realm.