The Imminent Occurances Of Postmortem

As some of you guys know, I have elaborate theories of what happens to the soul when the corpse eternally draws its lids over the eyes. This is one of my most recent ones.

They are all wearing masks,
Shielding the eye from truth.
Underneath, the enigmatic metal
Emits hate in ultraviolet rays.
They gracefully swim through forests
Of doubt.
Wavelets of proof rustle the leaves
At the surface.
In the darkened, rocky, bottom,
They show each other
What is truly under.
Their metallic sheen,
Illuminates the false assumptions.
And scares away the deer,
Fleeing in a school,
Against the current.
They need to surface
Or they drown with the lies.
Defiantly scouring
The vast heavens for an answer,
The smoke emitted from the burning clouds
Enters their elongated nostrils in tendrils
Of question.
WHY DOES LIFE CONITNUE?
All organisms just seemingly loiter in the barren void called earth awaiting their Imminent incineration,
Brought upon themselves by sin.
Senseless lust for eternal life.
Fornicating amongst themselves with theories.
Greed towards their deceased friends,
Who are already bathing in the fire,
Cleansing them of faith.
Our masks are flammable.
No matter which way we go after death,
We'll be exposed.
Whether by the flames of hell,
Or the warming flames in the fireplace of heaven,
After the pulse becomes parallel with the lines of latitude on the maps,
There are no lies.
The departed can no longer find a hiding spot in the jungle that lacks autotrophs.
Truth prevails and the liars learn that an admission to heaven can be revoked
By the dreaded pitchfork that stokes the fire burning our masks.

-Steve?-