Beady Eyes

The snow white texture.
The pitch black stripes.
I remember that mixture.
Those beady eyes.

What memories they trace.
Forcing the darkness into light.
The immature time that I once embraced.
The tarnished terror that they showcase.
And woosh! The stuffed eyes lock onto me.
How scared should I be?
Those beady eyes.

They start to glint.
The white particles moving around the orbs.
Swaying back and forth, back and forth.
Until they reach the sun.
The whole optic lights up.
The glowing orbs stare me down.
Tracking my every slight or obvious move.
Denies the darkness of the light.
Neither can stop their tracking might.
They hunt like a hungry Lion.
With the fierce determination of a fox.
They disregard every concreted pylon.

You may never escape.
The intelligent and playful toy that is definitely no ape.
For all that I may know.
The dodgy toy may be making a tape .
In case it’s callous, creepy camera is.
I wish it would go off to Paris.
If it does so, I will be left in admiration to silent peace.

Finally his glinting red eyes begin to fade.
Slow loud thumps begin to sound.
Opening ups to a ravaging rescue raid.
Those beady eyes.
There no more.