Heaven Lies in Me and You

In a room where silence screams,

Where shadows dance in dim-lit dreams,

Three souls entwined, their fates unfurled,

A mirror to the inner world.

No flames, no pitchforks, no descent,

But torment in the present tense,

A gaze, a word, a knowing glance,

Condemnation in a twisted dance.

Hell is not a place below,

It's in the eyes of those we know,

A judgment passed without reprieve,

A prison where we cannot leave.

In Sartre's world, we play our part,

Our truths exposed, our secrets bared,

We seek escape, but can't depart,

In endless loop, we're ensnared.

The self is lost, the other reigns,

Our essence bound in human chains,

In every look, in every sneer,

The essence of our deepest fear.

For what are we but our reflections,

In the eyes of others' projections,

A constant state of raw inspection,

A lifetime's worth of introspection.

We wear our masks, we play our roles,

In this theater of human souls,

Yet freedom lies in our control,

To break these chains, to be made whole.

So here we stand, our hearts laid bare,

In Sartre's vision, stripped of care,

Hell is other people, true,

But heaven lies in me and you.

To see beyond the other's gaze,

To find ourselves in life's cruel maze,

To redefine, to reconnect,

To find the peace that we neglect.

In every look, a chance to see,

The boundless depth of you and me,

For in this Hell, there's hope concealed,

A path to grace, a chance to heal.