Why We Need Christ to Go to Heaven

On a winding road of golden-rod brick
I happen upon the entrance to a tall city;
It's jacinth towers rise, and in-between
Them are markets---where no money is needed---
The buildings rise like leaning emeralds
With a hazy hues of cherry red;
The baker's trough is there, and the delicatessen.
They plucked the truffles from the ground
And the fungi, and the lichen, and there it tastes
Like the umami of meat, and the savor
And the texture, and the cuts are so choice.
There is something like salt and spice there
But new flavors as yet unheard of and unseen;
The sausage ground from fungi, and the skins from fruit rinds;
The cheeses made from the exotic kine that come from all around.
Roasted in their ovens, the smell of the fungi wafts of something new.
The kine are interested in it, and come from the open fields
Of grain, from their eternal grazing, to eat.
The emerald towers raise, and I whist myself 
Into the air, and fly high, higher, higher
Until I meet the face of a massive clock tower.
There, its second hand ticks to the rotation of a whole universe---
Its minute hand ticks, and its hour...
Its face is inlaid with precious golden lapidary, 
And my Hephzibah is beside me---for I am never alone here.
And I feel perfect peace, perfect joy, perfect love...
And I am dwelt by Christ's righteousness,
So I have the eternal free will, to choose righteousness at all times.
For, my body cannot sin, nor can my mind, nor can my heart.
I am fully indwelt by the Spirit, so I cannot fall like Satan did.
I cannot rebel, for I am made one with the Holy Ghost and Word
And am fully embodied by the Spirit's Truth, so I, in my consciousness,
Cannot sin, but will, with the full awareness of choice
Like I have right this very moment, eat, drink, merry
And partake of heavenly wonders which this book cannot describe.