Hill Secrets

The hill holds secrets so ancient and old.
Private news leaks from breezes and is told.
A murder so ghastly, it is so gross.
And to this tortured soul, it is too close.
I look into her ghost eyes and feel her pain --
all these years, on this hill, she had lain.
A man did the deed; I let out a sad sigh.
It was his bride -- very young to die!
She went to her final place of rest;
rest well, sweet girl, but do tell, is best.
I hear the confidences of a slaughter,
for she was not just his bride, but his daughter.
He abused and impregnated her.
Then said that she was worse than a cur.
He wanted to leave, to escape any of the town's scorn,
No one would know she was his own; then the baby would be born.
She had refused to leave but secretly wed her father.
Because she would not flee, he strangled his daughter.
I listened to the story with tears in my heart,
then she informed me her surname was Blart.
Ernest Blart was my neighbor and friend,
but I knew I needed to find his end.
I heard all the sad truth on the air,
I felt bad that I had not been there.
I would have protected this young lass.
I would have whipped her father fast.
And even if it did not end in death,
I would have beat him to his last breath.
As her spirit fades, I rise up and turn.
I feel anger boiling and blood churn.
I make a silent vow to end a killer's life.
Not sure how, though, a rope or a knife.
I march down the hill and onto the street, sure of a fact;
Cannot let him live after knowing of his heinous act.
I walked to his house, which was right down the lane.
I pounded on the door, feeling my disdain.
Mr. Blart let me inside the door.
Then I pushed him onto the floor.
My hands encircled the old man's neck and I did squeeze;
I tightened my grip until he made not even a wheeze.
I held my fingers until I knew he was dead.
I hoisted the body up; he was heavy like lead.
I carried him -- thanks it was dark and deserted.
If I cannot cover my tracks...this cannot be reverted.
I made it up the hill with him and a shovel on my back.
It was almost dawn, I could smell the aroma of lilac.
I listened to the ghost as I dug his small grave.
As I started to walk home, I sadly thought no one is saved.
But at least she is avenged, her dad is now deceased.
It was only as I left the hill, I felt her soul release.
Her spirit stopped in front of me and I thought of my hands now imbrue.
Then I relaxed knowing I did right when she said 'thank you'.
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Hello. I haven't posted in a very long time. I was modding for a while in a chat room, and finally got away! I hope you all enjoy this poem. :)