'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Many creatures were stirring, including the mouse.
We undead were hunting in search of a feast.
Our stomachs were empty and growled like a beast.

A young boy was nestled all snug in his bed
While mist and a bat did hang over his head.
With a swoop I sank low and to my surprise
The boy was awake now and rubbing his eyes.

I was fixed and unmoved while taking my shape.
Then fear filled our faces, there was no escape.
I thought I was ready but I was too new.
We stared for a moment; oh, what should I do?

When up on the rooftop, queer sounds we did note.
His frown was upturned and my wonder rewrote.
Then what to my pondering ears should I hear
But a swoosh and a thud that made my heart fear.

At once, the boy sprung and together we ran
To the stairs, we paused, for below stood a man.
‘A hunter!’ I feared, ‘Will this be my last night?’
I watched him move softly and soon lost my fright.

A “Ho-ho-ho-ho!” he did smile to the cat.
This stout man wore red and white with a cone hat.
He took from his great sack an offer of toys
And placed them as gifts for this brave little boy.

The boy had a smile, as sweet as a plum
But who was this old man with such a big bum?
With glee the boy ran, down the staircase he flew.
I scrambled behind him, unsure what to do.

Ol' White-Beard kept working, though not very hard,
Then paused for a break, for some snacks and a card.
While reading the message he ate like a Hutt.
No wonder this old man has such a big gut!

At once, he did spot us, so we hid our heads.
He told us to come and we did as he said.
Embracing the young boy, ol' White-Beard was kind.
He gave him a present and paid me no mind.

The boy left us smiling, back up to his room
While we stood there quiet; was he still my doom?
He took out his cob-pipe and puffed for a bit,
Then aimed for the trashcan to take a big spit.

He glared at me closely, or so I did think,
Then motioned me near with a laugh and a wink,
“So why are you hunting this innocent boy?
He's been good all year! Or do ye wish a toy?”

He said not to worry; he liked what I was.
When I asked the man why, he said, “Just because.”
'Twas two pints of blood he then took from his sack.
“It's virgin,” he grinned with a slap to my back.

With a tap to his nose, he rose up the flue.
I puzzled a bit, but no answer came to.
'Til out the darkness I heard him decree,
“'Tis the will of the heart that sets a man free!”