Upon a frozen Eve of Yule, bleak and bitter, stark and silent,
While I brood, nerves unquiet, thoughts of comfort wholly violent,
Over embers dim and dying, over sins I bore of yore,
While the bells without lay chiming - iron-throated, cold, and sore-
Abruptly there comes a scraping, faintly creeping overhead,
As of talons slowly pacing where the roof beams bowed with dread
“’Tis but settling,” I try to reassure, “Winter’s weight upon the floor-”
Ah, distinctly I remember - every night of cursed December,
When the snow like ashes smother hope, as I gaze into the ember;
And each crack within the ceiling, each dull groan of ancient pine,
Strikes my heart with recollection of that thing I’d sealed in time
Below they carol peace and gladness, lanterns flutter soft and warm,
But above, the rafters shudder as though breathing in a storm
Still that sound comes, growing bolder, shaking dust upon the floor-
The incessant scratching of an old and gnarled claw
Thoughts of peace I cannot summon, though the bells ring soft and low, and candlelight gleams below
Yet above, the beams do tremble, to a rhythm none should know
Slow I rise, heart drumming madly, toward the stair I dread to soar-
Toward the thing I had encaged so many years before
A waking sin of a monster, half-human, feathered, and antlered head, did I catch
One night I'd found it lurking, and brief I caught it smirking, so fast I slammed and locked the hatch
Then one evening as it snored and slept, up again I crept, its colour a a Winter pall
And then I quickly shackled it, shackled and chained it to the attic wall
Up the steps, each creak confessing sins I dared not yet repent,
Hangs the scent of rot and resin, like a prayer long mis-sent;
There the hatch lay iced and splintered, clawed and scarred along its seam,
And behind it breathes a presence born of nightmare, not of dream
Now a voice so thin and tearing - groans a carol, cracked and wild,
Mocking hymns of hope and mercy learned when once it was a child
“Let me out,” it croons in sorrow, “I remember what I were-...”
What that was is not here now, just a creature of rising fear
Up the stair I creep, unwilling, every step a sworn confession,
While the darkness thickens, presses as a printing press in deep depression;
Here the hatch lays barred and blistered, scored by scratches deep and raw,
And behind it breathes a presence fed by memory and flaw
Then it croaks - oh God, it croaks - through the planks in tones that wept,
Croaks its carol torn and broken, half-remembered, poorly kept
“Let me out,” it begs in anguish, “I was human once before, but long since, in the days of yore”
Startled I stand, soul divided, knowing well that wretched sound,
For the voice that cries for mercy wears my cadence, wears my ground
Then it snarls - oh God, it snarls then - through the wood in voices twain,
One of a beast and one of a man, braided tight with evil and pain
Now the bells ring sharp and mocking, chains above and hearth below,
While the attic shakes with what fury my deed has borne - I shall not know
Man or monster - vain distinction- both are trapped behind that door,
Bound together in desire to ecape, to be free once more
And though dawn shall break on Christmas, pure with snow and sacred flame,
Still the thing remains unpardoned, still it calls me by my name
For no wreath nor hymn nor blessing frees the sin we dare ignore,
And the beast we lock in darkness only hungers all the more
Thus my joy lies crushed and buried, while it scratches at the door
Claw on timber, tooth on rafter, carving hunger into gore
Amid the din, through a knothole our eyes brief meet
I know now that I should run, run out into the street
Now the bolts begin to shudder, nails withdraw with shrieking cries,
And the hatch bursts wide asunder - wood and darkness, teeth and eyes!
Down it leaps with limbs unencumbered, jaws agape and spattered gore
And I try to flee even faster, flee as fast so much more
Down I flee to upturned parlour, wreaths aflame and tables shattered,
While behind me thundered breathing thick with blood and curses uttered;
Through the hall it stalks and chases, dragging chains I’d forged of fear,
Claws that snap like shears of iron, teeth that grin from ear to ear
Beyond the gate it searches among the streetlights brief
And then darts into the night to my exhaled relief
Thus my house stands hushed this Christmas, doors locked tight and hearth grown cold,
For the beast walks free in daylight, ferocious, strange, uncontrolled
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