Last Bus To Hell

A poem on rebellion, written for a poetry contest.

Last Bus To Hell

The dark grey road is glistening
in the late midnight rain.
I'm feeling weak, but I'm still standing,
waiting for the last bus to Hell.

Look, father, I told you I'd been listening;
I followed your trail through the terrain.
You deceived me, denied me every blessing -
see me now, boarding the last bus to Hell.

Defiance was my only tool,
in spite of what you told me to
I defied every single rule.
I'm on the last bus to Hell, father,
It's too late to save me now.
I'm among their rotting carcasses,
I'm singing their tortured songs.

Now I know you never knew the answer,
that I was fated to this somehow.
I've thrown away my crutches,
I know where my soul belongs.

I'm on the last bus to Hell, father,
take a look at your darling dear!
I stand here as Satan's concubine
and it's her revenge that you will fear.