Christmas Fear

I have a mission – a mission mine,

But I am running out of time.

The Past has passed and Present flown;

The New Year horns are almost blown,

And I am six days much too late,

So twines the yarn of ghoulish fate.

Oh, I recall the years that were

When Scrooge’s no more than a score

Did walk the earth. Now by the three

And four decimal numbers be

Such legions of that empty kind

Who are proud to be deaf and blind.

It is such a very long time

Since Dickens wrote his book, and I’m

Just sad that it has come to this:

The Scrooge that was no longer is.

We cannot change their hearts with faith,

So now the greatest case is death.

Past and Present have little sway

In ranks of our Scrooge’s today.

People access Past through a phone,

The Present is another groan.

As for Future – they fear me still

For I yet have the strength to kill.

But this poor truth makes my own state

One that brings me to bedsides late,

And still it is so hard to prove

That I am the true Spirit of

The Future. They are steeped in lore

(called ‘movies’) which was not before.

Silence I yet maintain, and this

Perhaps the strongest force that is.

The graves I point to cannot be

Persuaded by an anguished plea

To cease to be. Words are their guard,

But making Death say “Yes” is hard.

So I fulfill this mission mine,

And as the last echoing chime

Of New Year’s eve has pealed away

A scream of black, utter dismay

Shrills through the night with “Please – please no!”

I cast a spell of sleep and go.

Upon a wind of silver-gray

The Ghosts of Christmas fade away

And rising to the atmosphere

They will there wait another year.

Future will need this year of dreams

To purge his mind of all the screams.