Be wary not to judge too quickly, as the eye of the beholder may see what it wants.
Late I wandered darkened alleys, driven to my midnight sallies
By my mind's forbidden valleys, valleys filled with ancient sin.
Never sure of what I wanted, searching, seeking all that's haunted
Terror-filled but still undaunted, by the horrors hid within.
Still I knew the horrors lurked; their power o'er me mustn't win.
Then I saw them slowly strolling, he his virtues long extolling
By her eyes, she was enrolling in the fan club that was him.
Closer still, I heard cajoling, wheedling ego needs consoling
Only her, no need for polling, virtue's prospects quickly dim.
His practiced words played all about her, naive virgin's chances slim.
He saw me and he grew suspicious, thought my presence inauspicious
For his plans for Miss Delicious, standing close with trembling chin.
Thought I'd come to steal his victim, but before he loosed his dictum,
Threw him down and fiercely kicked him, at his screams I could but grin
Unleashed the horrors deeply hidden, let my secret devils win.
Was the lady even grateful for my passage near so fateful?
No. She swore and and said things hateful, lashed me with a voice so grim.
Had I heard him incorrectly, as he asked her so abjectly
Pleading with her quite directly to accede to every whim?
Perhaps I erred with my aspersions when it came to judging him.
Could it be I was mistaken, was her virtue long since taken,
He just one more man for slakin' her strong thirst for carnal sin?
Getting angry, I grew bolder, moved right in and grabbed her shoulder
Plucked the eyes from the beholder, tossed them in a nearby bin.
With my angry spirits sated, left them to their whimpering din.
Written as a challenge to find the title of a poem in a favorite author's port, and write a completely different poem based on that title. I chose Eye of the Beholder by 🌜 HuntersMoon
Form: A ballad with five five-line stanzas abcbb using trochaic octameter and lots of internal rhyming.
Line count: 25