Short Poems - Running The Gauntlet

Humanity's End

The robots are taking over.
There's nothing we can do,
We created them.
It wasn't meant to end like this,
Fire and destruction and death.
Robots backing innocent civilians
into corners, and then striking.
They carry the unconscious body
to a lab, and hold surgical instruments millimetres away from skin.
With deadly precision, they carefully open them up, and replace organs with weapons.
A creative mind with a program that destroys.
It turns the human into something that will never be the same.
"Subject 18243. Turn on the power."
The gruesome creation flickers to life, its eyes staring blankly.
It sits up, stands on two feet, and walks.
In search of the next victim.
They wander the Earth, destroying all traces of humanity with fire and brimstone.
Books. Monuments. Art. Cities.
Smouldering rubble lies like heavy snow,
while the robots kill and destroy.
The last human gone. They wiped out the population.
They rally to create a perfect society, with no human imperfection.
The robots are taking over.
There's nothing we can do,
We created them.