The Maw

When you die there’s a test, and it’s your very last one,
You head across a tightrope bridge over a vast, gaping maw.
Take a breath and keep your balance true, or you’re done,
Left falling face-first into searing breath and a toothy jaw.
And if you make it across without being lost in its jowls,
You’ll find paradise waiting, with ice cream and soft towels!