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A Christmas Tale
Twas’ the night before Christmas,
And all through the town,
Wild fires were burning,
Half the homes to the ground.
The gunshots were fading,
Less and less with each hour,
While Christmas lights twinkled,
At least those that had power.
The townsfolk did shiver,
Not from cold but from feet,
Loudly crunching the snow,
Of zombie filled streets.
The police force was eaten,
The Army had fled,
Despite all of their violence,
The zombies still fed.
The people were desperate,
As each stronghold fell,
They knew they were trapped,
In this froze over hell.
They gathered on rooftops,
As the buildings were filled,
The undead soon bolstered,
By people they’d killed.
Broken and beaten,
Their end was at hand,
When down from the heavens,
A noise filled the land.
All eyes turned upward,
As a deep “ho, ho, ho,”
Gave hope to those trapped,
On the rooftops below.
The people rejoiced,
As a sleigh sharply banked,
Circling the hordes,
And the overrun tanks.
The ground rumbled like thunder,
As Santa did land,
Right in their midst,
A gun in each hand.
“You’ve all been quite naughty,
Which I will not bear,
I’m here to save Christmas,”
His voice filled the air.
And with a large grin,
Lead started to fly,
Gunfire twinkles,
Alight in his eye.
The thick horde converged,
But he drove them back,
Shooting till empty,
Reload, tap and rack.
One did get close,
Then a boot filled the air,
Crushing it’s skull,
For Santa knew it was there.
The rooftops were cheering,
As town square was reclaimed,
Lauding their hero,
And chanting his name.
“Follow me,” his voice bellowed,
“We shall take back your town,
For morning is coming,
And they must be put down!”
So the people did gather,
Santa leading the fight,
And his army marched forth,
On that cold winter’s night.
They battled for hours,
As their savior in red,
Led them in combat,
Against the undead.
And when every zombie,
Had thus moaned it’s last,
The townsfolk rejoiced,
Their nightmare had passed.
They smiled and waved,
As Santa climbed into his sleigh,
Now late in delivering,
The toys for the day.
“Merry Christmas!” he called,
As he circled above,
Giving one final wave,
With his black leather glove.
And when he had gone,
The town did not fear,
For they knew he’d be back,
To save them next year.
