Few

Fist Power

Eyes rolled back, collapse.
Cling to air, fight back.
Fingers lunge to gouge their eyes,
Weaken them, retrieve your position.

You slept on them, dreaming lazily,
They woke rejuvenated,
Staying woke; silence fuelled new found strength,
Exercised around your defunct resistance bands.

Strength not in numbers, but in few.
Sturdy metal coursing through them,
Almost indestructible,
Abilities bestowed by misguided sources.

Snapping out of your slumber too late,
Their limb had shot out, grabbed you by the jugular,
Squeezing, tightening, gripping
Bringing you to your knees.

You will bend to their routine.

Shaniqua Marie