'Twas the night before Deathmas, and all through the galaxy,
Creatures were preparing for the end, oh so tragically.
The planets were draped in black, mourning their fate,
Knowing that Death would soon come, with no way to escape.
The stars in the sky shone with an eerie glow,
As Death's ship descended, slow and low.
It was adorned with skulls and bones,
A reminder that Death spares no one.
As Death stepped out of his ship, he smiled with glee,
For he knew that his work would soon be complete.
He walked through the streets, scythe in hand,
Collecting souls from every land.
On each planet, they had their own way to mourn,
Some with tears, some with songs, some with horns.
But Death paid no attention to their grief,
For he knew that soon they would all be his.
As he traveled from planet to planet,
Death enjoyed the festivities, though he didn't plan it.
For even in the face of certain doom,
The creatures of the galaxy still found ways to consume.
On one planet, they roasted a giant turkey,
On another, they made Death-shaped cookies, all murky.
On yet another, they drank until they fell,
As if Death was just a temporary spell.
But Death knew better than anyone,
That once he claimed them, their lives were done.
And so he continued his grim task,
Taking joy in the darkness that he basked.
For Death knew that holidays were just a façade,
A temporary distraction from the inevitable odds.
So he collected his souls, and bid them adieu,
Knowing that next year, there would be a fresh crew.
And as Death's ship took off into the night,
The galaxy was left in a state of fright.
For they knew that Death would return,
Bringing with him an end they couldn't adjourn.