The Way Out Poem by Mackenzie Desil

These souls, they sail, with coins to pay the boat man
Now they go where none among the living can
a winding road, it lays before them now
the wailing spirits scream so loud
so different from angels sitting on a cloud
and gentle music drifting from the sky
and now I look around and see that for a lie
this! Is hell, there's devils all around
I’m hiding here; I dare not make a sound
I need to leave! I don’t know how.
I don’t know how!