A Ballad

Green-eyed Dreams and Nightmare Obscenities

Button green eyes that reflect all his lies,
Observing your life with no sound,
His plush-fabric skin tells of places he's been
And of ideas and thoughts so profound.

Such a small, wicked critter, his button's a-glitter
Gleams of evils his mind knows alone.
His creator, held dear, now only has fear
His believ-ed abstractions unknown.

Green plastic mirrors had never looked queerer
Than they did on this night around Nine
With malicious intent; the mind so hell-bent
A scheme that sent chills down the spine.

His plan so defined; and a misery so blind
That the creature leapt down with ease
And as twisted this seems; a nightmare without dreams
The buttons shone bright with disease.

The sick little brain did anything but strain
To put this diabolical plan into action.
Creeps on the floor, intending for gore
Button green eyes show but a fraction.

It isn't til Twelve that the creator did delve
Into this room so shadowed and grim
Olive-styled irises looked on so desirous
And crept: a silent phantom.

The creator however, was ever so clever
And recognized the madness long ago
But creator or not, had never given thought
That death would green eyes bestow.

Buttons and plush sprung out in a rush
And ran forward with teeth bared wide
The creator knocked down, and looking around
For a weapon, but not one did he spy.

CHOMP go pearly whites, gleam subtly in dim light
And tear and gnaw at the insides
The creator screams as he's ripped at the seams
As the plush arms poke, rip, and pry.

But the shrieks, they subside, and are now only cries
Of silent post-mortem tears
Cloth lips dance with laughter, at the hereafter
And at memories of sedentary years.

Now our button-eyed fiend licks his lips semi-clean
An obscure sense of illness anew
The message he said, this voiceless undead,
"I ate his brain, and I'll eat yours too!"