A MURDER MYSTERY
I’ve always been fascinated by who-done-it’s and classic horror stories, so I was inspired to write this piece with a ‘retro’ gothic feel.
Lyle, the socially awkward, seemingly milquetoast villain of this tale has a ‘killer’ obsession. A shy, mild-mannered church organist; he is ‘changed’ into a murdering menace — by loneliness and rejection.
BE WARNED: This poem, and the collage I created to accompany it, are both a bit graphic — in a noir-tongue-in-cheek sort of way.
I invite you to enjoy, “Reaper Groom”.
collage above entitled: “Thief of Hearts” — by: rob kistner © 2008
___________
Reaper Groom
~
backlit by a lightening flash
a figure scurried ‘cross the yard
between the gravestones he did dash
head down low, and running hard
dressed in cape of velvet black
he seemed to vanish from our sight
but then we saw him double back
he would not escape tonight
elusive as a demon’s shadow
ghost-like — he could disappear
but no more, this scourge of sorrow
finally, we were drawing near
surround and capture, was the plan
the hounds had tracked him to this place
this had to be our wanted man
though none had seen his evil face
we were sworn to bring him down
bloodthirsty was this man — and cruel
he’d caused such horror in our town
if he escaped, we’d look the fool
the target of our townsfolk’s hate
he must be caught this beast of doom
he’d killed so many brides to date
we knew him as the “Reaper Groom”
he took the lives of countless bride
murdered them by dark of night
once betrothed they couldn’t hide
death was sure to be their plight
marriage took an awful blow
as one by one our maidens fled
our bachelors’ ire began to grow
there were no wives to share their bed
this had to stop — no maids for men
it wasn’t natural, wasn’t right
this curse would never be again
it would end, right here, tonight
we had him cornered in our net
he’d not escape our clutch this time
he owed this town an awful debt
he’d pay quite dearly for his crime
we closed in slowly, with great care
we’d make sure he couldn’t run
we deftly caught him in our snare
and gathered round him, every one
we took him roughly in this place
and chained him to a stony block
and brought a torch to light his face
then gasped, and staggered back in shock
this couldn’t be, not this poor fool
this shy man of timid smile
we sought a monstrous evil ghoul
this was bashful lonely Lyle
Lyle played organ every Sunday
and lead the hymns, as we would sing
our fiend escaped, we’d get him one day
and when we did, for sure he’d swing
it wasn’t Lyle, it was another
Lyle was not the type, you see
Lyle lived with his aging mother
so we’d set lonely Lyle free
but Lyle spoke up in quiet voice
don’t turn me lose, please, I forbid it
you see you really have no choice
cause I’m your man, that’s right, I did it
I killed these maidens everyone
I’ve charged this town a heavy toll
but my spree is over, I won’t run
this weigh’s too heavy on my soul
sentenced to hanging at his trial
Lyle was shortly going to die
looking sadly stern at Lyle
the judge inquired of him why
had he slain all this beauty
made so many families cry
he felt an answer was his duty
so this was Lyle’s cold reply
for many years I’d been denied
until my soul was heavy laden
god knows how often I had tried
to win the love of a fair young maiden
I was so consumed with bitter grief
that, though I’ve caused much pain and strife
this was my only true relief
to take from them their tender life
as mama’s words rang in my head
I’d cut out their precious part
there’s more than one way, mama said
to steal a lovely lady’s heart
~ ~ ~
rob kistner © 2008
