Empty Christmas

A cold mountain, frost on the windows,

A decorated tree glittering through the glass pane,

A lonely home,

No love to grow,

A sad Christmas,

No mistletoe,

An empty home, just a lonely tree, with no one to put presents underneath,

Abandoned, and wasting electricity,

For the world did end on that Christmas Eve.

For the world did end,

If you look closer, you will see: blood-stained presents, wrapped underneath the Christmas tree.

A knocked over lamp, a sign of struggle,

The couch, red hand prints vast,

Broken picture frames, remembrance of the past.

Alarms tolled throughout the countryside, a reminder of the event that took place — it was very dim, though, for the city was several miles away,

Everywhere, there was blood, madness, agony, and a distant scream every now and then.

An experiment gone wrong, changed the entirety of the world that Christmas Eve,

Once human, now dead,

and a hunger for prickly flesh.