The Shop at the End of the World

The Shop at the End of the World

Some say there’s a shop at the end of the world.
It doesn’t sell mere mortal things.
It sells the special things that heaven
And beyond brings.

Like doves’ feathers that are made in gold.
So beautiful they shine.
Praying hands, made out of silver.
The beautiful praying kind.

It sells poetry wrote out on frames.
All religious. Nothing about the earth.
And all the things that shop sells
Is more than anything worth.

As people die in their beds at night.
Or wherever they shall be.
They have one stop to make
That they’re allowed before heaven, you see.

So they stop off at this little shop.
Just for something that they call theirs.
And usually it’s praying hands
Cause it reminds them of their prayers.

There’s no cash exchanged.
No shop assistant.
The shop is bigger than you’ve ever seen.
And everything inside it is neatly packed.

And ready with their names, as seen.
So who knows, one day you might find yourself there
Inside this shop.
When all of life has ended.