The Night Before the Cold Dark Christmas.
The Night Before the Cold Dark Christmas.
The Night Before the Cold Dark Christmas.
by Weapon01
My Little Pony belongs to Hasbro, yada, yada, yada...
Twas the night before Christmas in Ponyville, in all through the house
Not a creature could stir, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that some relief of despair soon would be there.
The fillies and colts were shivering cold in their beds,
While visions of better-days fled from their heads.
And mamma in her ‘kerchief, and Pa in his cap,
Had just settled there brains for a long winter’s cold snap.
When out on the grass-less lawn there arose such a clatter,
Pa sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window he flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw open the tattered rag.
The dead winter moon on the treacherous face of the old packed snow
It gave the warning of sunless day to objects below.
When, what to his fearful eyes should appear,
But a broken sleigh, and eight dying reindeer.
With a little old driver, so once lively, now not,
Pa knew in a moment it must've been St Nick.
More rapid than vultures his waning whispers he withered,
And he coughed, and gasped, and called them by name.
"Oh Dasher, oh Dancer... Prancer oh Vixen.
Oh, Comet oh, Cupid.... oh Donner oh Blitzen."
Standing doorway on the porch with flanks to the wall they heard-
"Please suffer no more. Suffer none more please. Oh wooee...
As he gasped once more he died in regret,
Old St. Nick last sight was a sack full of little pony toys
rolling down hill to the deathly cold lake, newly named Sorrow Lake.
Then from the soulless white from the distance
Pa saw three men walking.
The first was the Crooked Man, the second the Undertaker,
then the third The Coward Mr. Croft.
They dressed in black with old coats, old hats and old shoes
The Crooked Man came with a linked-chain full of sins
The elderly Undertaker came with a tall stove pipe hat,
Then The Coward Mr. Croft came with a liquor bottle labeled "Fear"
Ma & Pa ran back in the house, and slammed the door shut
But no sooner they locked all eight locks
The three men, stood ghostly inside ready to commit their acts
Ma and Pa could see their dead-cold eyes how they sunk so far in
Their cheeks how they clung to the bone 'neath their skin.
The Undertaker's long nose shaped like a raven's beak
The Crooked Man's beard ashen'd as if from a burnt fire.
The three stood skinny & lanky, with near none a ounce of flesh upon bone
They spoke not a word from the mouth & spoke only with unrepentive terror.
Then The Coward Mr. Croft, walked to Pa and held out his bottle.
"No, not me. God spare me please not me.
I have but one poor wife and three shivering children. Please not me!"
Pa begged and pleaded, but the Coward Mr Croft held the bottle closer
Pa's head moved back then his mouth opened against his sovereign will,
He wept uttering a despairing final whisper.
Ma dared not move, fearing any retribution they could inflict against her children
She watched in silent terror, as Pa breathed hard, then shallow,
Then his once deep fatherly voice became high and screeched.
Pa saw great terror, no angels just devils, & all last good things come undone.
He was alive, now his soul crawled away out of his mouth.
He could no longer speak a word, or give final goodbye's
The Undertaker reached down and plucked up his soul.
He opened his mouth pop'd his soul past his dry grey lips, and down Pa went.
The Crooked Man then turned to Ma pointing a deathly boney finger.
His lips and mouth moved, but made not one sound, he gave a last grim grin
Then he turned and all three walked past the locked door.
Out to the lonely cold the three walked away from Ponyville, only to return one day again.
What would widow'd Ma say to to her new three fatherless children?
What will widow'd Ma give to her three fatherless children with no toys from dead St. Nick?
All she knew was it was only less than a week away 'till New Year again
Then Ma despaired, knowing The New Year reaper comes to Ponyville with a scythe
She gave a hopeful gaze to the frozen-over train tracks,
Perhaps, she thought, I could lie in wait on the tracks as the train comes, it's wheels as an axe.
