Femme Fatale

She had that look, the look that stops all.
The cars crash, the lights stop, the towers fall.
Her eyes go narrow, and you shake to the bone.
Cold is your marrow, in terror you moan.
She rules the race with a fist of steel.
She drives the machine, both hands to the wheel.
An ability to kill and a look to control.
What she wants, she gets- her wish is your goal.
She speaks- your mind is controlled by the sound.
She walks- you are barred, no way to be found.
She breathes, and you find you cannot speak.
All power to her is shown rather weak.
Help me, you cry, as her feet step near.
Free me, you sigh, from my cold walls of fear.
Take me where no path can touch me with harm.
I am swept along, on your hot waves of charm.