Guardians Of Atlanta 68
(Re-Napped)

The room Amira was put in was warm.
Cozy, snug, and soft.
Yet her mind continued to race.
Were these really men of God?
And even if they were,
Did she really believe the same?
Or was what the Mayor said about radicals
An accurately stated claim?
All these thoughts began to wear off
As she drifted toward slumber-land.

But she began to once again feel something new
As she slowly raised her hand.
A lonely urge trembled through her heart,
And straight up through her arm.
And as it reached it’s highest point,
It slowly began to storm.
She felt relief as the rain came down
Like she’d accomplished some goal.
And finally she drifted off to sleep,
No trembling left in her soul.

The woman who held Amira before
Sat up in a sudden jolt.
This had been the first time ever,
she’d not made that lightning bolt.
For her name was Cyrus Jones
(You may have read of her previously.)
And Cyrus jumped straight out of bed
With great and urgent immediacy.

“It must be Amira.”

She thought to herself
As she ran down the halls to Amira’s room.
And as she arrived, She tripped over Bobby,
Who had been knocked out she assumed.
She got up and looked out the window,
And saw an officer across the street.
Amira was on the man’s broad back.
Her kidnapping was once again complete.

Cyrus jumped over Bobby again
And ran to hit the alarm.

She shouted into an intercom.

Cyrus: “Amira’s gone! To Arms!”