Wrong Turn

I lay crying in the woods, Bloody knees and a broken nose, The rain is falling washing away some blood, My hair is knotted and filthy with who knows. No one travels this dirt road, This is to much of a mental load, Are they waiting so quiet, Will this end in a riot. My clothes are tattered and torn, My heart is full of nothing but scorn, I hear them walking in the woods, I run frantically my senses are no good. I hide behind a tree, Hopefully they won't see me, Their knifes and hatchets make me panic, They call my name now I'm frantic. I pray to the saints for divine intervention, Getting killed was never my intention, I just wanted to camp and have fun, Now I know my life is done. They grab my hair and drag me back, I'm traveling inside some kind of sack, My doom is now sealed I hear from above, I regret not saying I love you to those I loved. I hang now from ropes tied to the roof, My soul needs no more proof, The pain is agonizing and too much to deal, All I can do is cry and squeal. They draw the knife from the table, I know now escape is now unable, He makes small horrifying slits, And a dose of salt is what I get. A lit cigar is next an his list, I try to go somewhere else in my mind finding no bliss, He pokes me with a shallow point, The pain sits in at my joints. He removes my bones one by one, I hope he is having fun, I am dying there is no doubt, I wish I had taken another route. I'm sorry my family and loved ones, Sorry for all the things I've said and done, I'll see you one day in heaven, It's sad I died at eleven.