Curfew of the dead

We are all souls, told to dispatch to heaven sake.
A wheel of heaven is measure by  its seal.
The seal  robes are far reach within no limit to unlock.

By will, the heaven's gate permit the only right
The wrongs of all souls are sticker from darkness,
The darkness of our souls.

The heaven's path is real,
Few plunge to it, and router tow the heaven.
Our sake kneel behind our brains.

Conquerors wage wars,
war on the fabrics of time and seasons.
Souls  became partners,
Partners of self and greed.

Just like remnant with  few pieces.
Souls in the journey of rest,
Where sin are marked; the guilt and innocent.
Both lies within the sand pit.

The heaven's is for the right and wrongs
And many heaven's lies before our eyes.
Some we cannot open, some farther away.
The will of heaven had been decided.

Souls are like fabrics torn and old after use.
Heaven's the sake of our knowledge limit.
Our journey will cease, end to the start.
Because the heaven's will is for the curfew to start after death.

It will be, and never cease to end.
It will end, and another means will start.
It will start, and another seasons will emerge.
All will pass, and the curfew will begin.