Surrepetitious stalker, I,
In search of perfection, find you.
Waiting in the shadows nearby
I softly edge up behind you.
Weapon in hand, yet uncertain,
I caress your soft, trembling limbs
Hesitant to pull the curtain
For what now seem like merely whims.
Yet duty calls, a harsh mistress,
Demanding your young sacrifice
Regardless of my own distress,
Dismissive of the heavy price.
I grit my teeth and go to task,
Rending with the blade's serration.
I hurry, time is fading fast;
They wait with anticipation.
Finally, with your undoing
I pray your soul flies fast and free,
Soon your beauty they'll be viewing
So merrily: our Christmas Tree.