Who killed the Santa

The chiming bell, tolls, tolls, tolls,
Ringing in the mid summer sledge,
Who has seen a rain, dear,
No, I haven't, its just an elk, see.

Croak, the swamp sings,
Croak, the crow swims,
Croak, the world spins,
Croak, the bell rings.

The deafening silent bell of the north,
Oh snow flake, you would wither, 
Wide awake, waiting for the ash,
Settle, settle, settle, subtle sounds.

Bleak, the southern wind,
Bleak, the minute print,
Bleak, cold breath mint,
Bleak, I sleep, I wink.

A twig breaks, the sledge plunges,
The great northern wind screams,
The winters are here, here and here,
But where is the misty chill.

Drip, the water slips,
Drip, the sweaty lips,
Drip, the clammy hips,
Drip, the sunken ships.

And when the sun sets,
Far away in the northern chills,
An old man turns, shivers and sleeps, 
The question still remains though,

Who killed the ghost of present.