O’ what sorrows hang under the placid moon,

Beguiled as we wait before an open tomb.

~~

Unexpectedly passing in horrid way,

O’er the hilltop, contorted and lifeless you lay.

~~

Cowardly murderer ran with haste from his deed,

Hiding as rats will do in thicket and weed.

~~

Hide from God! You most certainly cannot,

Judgement at the gates will harshly begot.

~~

O’ dear Alicia…how young and innocent you were,

Just a child– Undeserving of a life to pass as a blur.

~~

While the foul miscreant thrives and lives on,

Corrupt of conscience, never considered you were gone.

~~

O’ how the parents grieve for their little lost soul,

All while this pariah slithers into Satan’s black hole.

~~

Squalid tomb– Why take solace in so young a life?

So cold, so final, no comfort to the progenitors strife!

~~

Judgement befitting the crime, our earthly courts did not levy,

Cries for hanging be raised at the hands of a justified bevy.

~~

No! Justice in this lifetime is not to be,

Pray God, Hell’s hanging tree hath a place for he.

~~

As the tomb eternal be sealed from the light,

Candles pay homage to a life once so bright.

~~

A place be laid for you Alicia…at the foot of God’s throne,

For all to take comfort that you will never be alone.

~~ D. R. DiFrancesco ~~