The weathered house leans
high on the hill,
encasing the horror
that haunts the town still.

Lit by the moon
an evil boy crept,
through the slit screen
as the young family slept.

He killed them all,
or so he thought.
The mother survived
her wounds of gunshot.

Now we hurry by,
make a sign of the cross.
She rocks on the porch ~
gone mad with her loss.