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T'was the night before Christmas and all through the town,
Smiles were fading and becoming frowns.
Frowns frozen solid, forever displayed,
The Eternal Cold has now left us dismayed.

Dismayed and dishonoured and dead on the floor,
I knew that we shouldn’t have answered the door.
The door to the outside where, lying in wait,
The Eternal Cold began sealing our fate.

Our fate that had once entranced our very core,
Oh, why did we have to go answer the door?
For behind that door with meticulous thought,
The Eternal Cold changed our life count to naught.

Our life which had seemed just so normal before,
Had come through the window then flown out the door.
The door that had once blocked the passage to death,
But once it was open the Cold stole our breath,

Our breath, mystified and spewing from our mouths,
The Cold brought our souls from the inside to out.
Once our souls were stolen, repercussions made clear,
The Eternal Cold would mark our resting place here.

Resting place; a misleading name, I am sure,
It actually means where we’re dead on the floor.
The floor, which came closer so fast when it came,
The Eternal Cold had brought doom to our names.

Names now meant nought but identification,
For the bodies on the floor, so fast they were taken.

By: Der Höllische and Der Schatten.