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'.