Christmas Eve of the Living Dead

‘T was the night before Christmas,

When all through the house

Not a creature was stirring

Except a small mouse

-

Now this was quite odd

As a matter of fact

It had been killed earlier

By a black and white cat

-

But out in the graveyard

Strange noises were heard

The undead were rising,

Fresh flesh they preferred

-

But the village was quiet

On this cold clear night

Nobody was there

To put up a fight

-

The undead were marching

As the people lay sleeping

Unaware of the threat

That was currently creeping

-

One of  the undead

Broke into a house

And accidentally trod

On the small zombie mouse

-

Inside of this home

The children were dreaming

If they awoke

They soon would be screaming

-

The zombie approached

Prepared for a snack

But the next thing he saw

Was inside of a sack

-

With a swish of a blade

The zombie head fell

This corpse now descending

Back into hell

-

But who held the blade

That flashed by so quick?

Enter our hero

The bearded St. Nick

-

After killing the zombie

He cleaned up the gore

The house was as tidy

As it had been before

-

St Nick sipped some sherry

Then ate a mince pie

Then left some wrapped presents

Before waving goodbye

-

He flicked off a crumb

From his suit made of red

Ready to continue

To fight the undead

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