"Sleighride Inferno" The night was stitched with gasoline flame, A red ghost tearing across a frozen plain— A Cadillac comet, rusted majesty, Trailing smoke and reckless dreams. Santa sat alone, throne of crimson steel, Face lit by the embers of dying promises. The sleigh groaned like a church bell in hell, Hollow echoes wrapped in frostbite silence. Beneath the black cathedral sky, The snow whispered secrets Of broken children and empty streets, Where headlights once roared, Now distant memories in a fogged mirror. The engine howled against the void, Clawing toward something nameless, A final spark before oblivion. But the driver knew— Even here, The road ends. Silent night, unholy truth. The red saint rides alone.