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 ~~
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