# Wilson's Grave



## Firemajic

Wilson's grave hides a secret,
one that has haunted me for years.
That it will one day be exposed, 
has been my darkest fear.

I have written down my story,
and you can judge me,if you may.
But in the pages of this diary ,
I will finally have my say.

I hid my diary in his grave,
away from prying eyes,
no one now will ever know
why Wilson had to die.

A child was born of evil,
could not be allowed to live,
forgiveness? Not an option,
it is not mine to give.

I carried him that midnight,
wrapped in a bloody sheet,
and buried him in secret,
there, at Wilson's feet.

My child was still alive,
when I placed him in the ground,
and I stood there and I listened
until I did not hear a sound.

Reverend Wilson was my father,
and the father of my son,
I know God will not forgive us,
for what we both have done.

So if you pass by Wilson's grave,
please stop and offer a prayer,
Not for Revrend Wilson--
But for the child who lies hidden there.


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## Prof

Wow, a new side to you. This is more something I would write.  Very powerful and the last two stanzas  are chilling.  Good work.


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## Firemajic

Prof--thank you for reading. This is based on a true story, and I felt compelled to tell it. Thanks again.   Peace...Jul


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## aj47

Oh my, but this is haunting.  The evil that men do lives after them.   Well penned, even if the topic is uncomfortable.


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## Bachelorette

Hey Jul. You're reminding me of Lisa with this one, hehe. 

A few things. First, I like the antiquated feel that the rhyming gives this piece. Gives it a sort of 19th century aura, which fits the subject matter, even though this could just as easily have happened in modern times. That said, this sort of rhyme scheme really demands a consistent rhythm, which you mostly have here, but there are a couple of rough spots.



			
				Firemajic; with edits by Bachelorette said:
			
		

> *His dark *grave hides a secret,
> that has haunted me for years.
> That it will *one day *be exposed
> has been my darkest fear.
> 
> I have written down my story.
> You can judge me, if you may.
> But in the pages of this diary,
> I will finally have my say.
> 
> I *hid* my diary in *his *grave,
> away from prying eyes.
> No one *now *will ever know
> why Wilson chose to die.
> 
> A child was born of evil,
> could not be allowed to live.
> Forgiveness? Not an option.
> It is not mine to give.
> 
> I carried him that *midnight*,
> wrapped in a bloody sheet,
> and buried him in secret,
> there, at Wilson's feet.
> 
> *The *child was still alive
> when I placed him in the ground,
> and I stood there and *I* listened
> 'til I did not hear a sound.
> 
> Reverend Wilson was my father,
> and the father of my son.
> I know God won't forgive us,
> for what we both have done.



Everything in bold was an addition or alteration I made to preserve the rhythm. I suppose it's why I detest writing rhymed poetry myself, because even if the rhythm is only off by a syllable, it stands out like a rotten tooth in an otherwise perfect smile. Feel free to alter or outright ignore what I've done here; I only made the changes in an effort to show you how much more smoothly the poem reads when the rhythm is unaltered. Either way, I hope it was helpful. Thanks for sharing.


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## Chesters Daughter

I bow to you, Milady Jul, and shall be forwarding to you posthaste my extra shroud. Gooseflesh yet again, have you no mercy? So very sad to learn this true, makes the bruise from the punch all the larger. Uncomfortable subject matter, indeed, yet handled tastefully, if such a thing is possible in light of the situation. Please consider Ms. B's suggestions which are all sound. Welcome to the club, my love, I grow so lonely sometimes, lol. Well done, dear Jul, oh so very well done. 

Hugs,
Lisa


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## Firemajic

astroannie--thank you so much for reading. Yes, the subject matter is ugly and uncomfortable, I understand...But this was told to my Mother many years ago by an old woman, who wanted my mothers help, finding the grave. She wanted to put flowers there--one more time---not for Wilson, but for that forgotten child.Molestation is a terrible crime--with many victims, and it changes the innocent, sometimes they are past all redemption...

Bachelorette--Thank you for your keen and much needed critique--I have made many of the changes you suggested, and am pleased with the results. Thank you for reading.

Lisa--I will take that extra shroud...my good shroud is now tattered beyond repair...Thank you for reading.

Peace...Jul


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## Gumby

I can only echo what has already been said Jul. A very painful subject but handled with skill and delicacy, which only underlines the horror of the deeds being done. Well done.


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## Firemajic

Gumby---thank you for reading, I am thankful that you thought I handled the subject matter with skill---that, more than anything--was a struggle. I appreciate your comments,  coming from a writer of your surgical  precision  and  prowess with a pen--this is a compliment indeed...peace...Jul


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## Chesters Daughter

Firemajic said:


> Lisa--I will take that extra shroud...my good shroud is now tattered beyond repair...Thank you for reading.
> 
> Peace...Jul



This set the rats gnawing at my insides, love. As long as there are even a few scraggly threads left, the good shroud can be rewoven. Take it from me, I know. Please tell me you're okay.


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## Firemajic

Lisa--I am fine...Just taking a walk on the dark side...Peace...Jul


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## candid petunia

The fact that this is a true story makes me shudder. A very haunting poem, delicately written. I don't think I'm going to forget this easily.


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## Firemajic

Dear Candid Petunia--always a pleasure to have you read and comment on my poetry, thank you so much.   Peace...Jul


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## JRBurgher

What an eerie little poem.  Love it.  I have to agree that the 19th century feel came across very well.  It makes me want to play with period piece poems!

JRB


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## Firemajic

JRBurgher--Thank you for reading and taking the time to comment. Thank you for noticing the 19th century feel of this poem. I have to confess, I was eavesdropping on a private conversation[I was about 10 years old at the time] Between my Mother and an OLD woman[about 83--or 84 years old ]who wanted my mother's help in finding the grave...Her manner of speaking was quite "old fashioned" . Thanks again for reading. Peace...Jul


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## SilverMoon

Jul, your "White Horses" was brilliantly chilling but this poem is the true gallop into the dark. Expertly crafted rhyme. I can't rhyme for the life of me (only slant ryhme, at my best) but I know when I "hear" perfect pace.

Yes, this piece, as with your others, has a 19th century feel but it's not weighty. Hinted at. A misty atmosphere you seemingly effortlessy create.

Your last stanza. Something out of Hawthorne. Shocking but far from being written for the value.

Venerated verse, personified! Laurie


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## JRBurgher

I read this again today... it is truly THAT inspiring.  The only thing I can think of, is whether a child born with epilepsy or some other disease might have been seen as evil or full of demons in the 19th century. Then there are children conceived due to rape, incest, or adultery.  I feel horrible for those who were punished for the sins of others.

Shovelfuls of gravely soil being thrown upon a shallow grave.  
Thunder in the distance, rain streaming down.  Every breath seen in the bone-chilling cold.  
Horse sounds in the not-so-far distance and the creak of an old wagon.
The muffled wailing of a young woman in tortured existence, never to be forgotten.

The old man finishes a quick prayer over the shallow grave,
God have mercy on his soul.
A long swig from a mostly-empty bottle.
The deed is done.

Requiescat in pace.     (Latin for Rest In Peace)​
JRB


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## Firemajic

JRBurgher--Incest it is...Perpetrated by a man of "God"- blasting his congregation for sinning, then behind closed doors...well you can fill in the blanks...
I an honored that you read it again. OH BTW--loved your imagery! Peace...Jul


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## Firemajic

Dear Laurie---Your critique is one that I will treasure...And thank you for remembering " White Horses"---That poem is my favorite...Peace my friend---Jul


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## KevinB

Three words Firemajic... I love it! Hauntingly beautiful and inspiring.


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## Firemajic

Kevin---Thank you for reading "Wilson's Grave. Your comments are appreciated .  Peace...Jul


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## aj47

>bump<

Seriously, I don't know how you tell when you're finished.  My husband says writers tinker with stuff till they get tired of tinkering and then call it done.


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## Ethan

shades of Poe and I love it. Dealing with secrets is tricky and you have just the perfect balance of suspense, intrigue and horror. well done. This was a difficult story told well.


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## Gumby

I like that final stanza, Jul, well done!


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## Firemajic

astroannie--It is --I think-- finished..

Ethan--thank you--this is a true story, so that made it just that much more difficult. Thank you for your comments.

Gumby--thank you ! Hopefully the child will now be the focus of this poem. He is why I wanted to tell this
story...Peace...Jul


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## escorial

has some depth to it this piece..enjoyed


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## Firemajic

escorial--Thank you for reading and commenting! Peace...Jul


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## Arcopitcairn

Just fantastic. Excellent piece! That last stanza was great


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## Firemajic

Arcopitcairn--Thank you.   Peace...Jul


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