Title: madame guillotine
Author: Digimon Empress Yaten (de yaten)
Notes: Well, this took an annoying amount of time to finish. I've always loved the comparison of Kingdom Hearts (the 'Moon') to Madame Guillotine—inspired by The Scarlet Pimpernel song—and so I tried writing something along the lines of her being a Queen again. Reviews welcome, especially if you favorite! Enjoy.
Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts or its characters, I don't claim to own them.
She sits, always - the Queen, her Majesty, Grand Royal Highness in A World that Never Was on a sky-throne That Doesn't Exist - she sits, with blue curtained fabric draped about her royal shoulders and her dress is ever-dark and stained with blood, but she, she with the silver gaze - is light bright, but moonlight only and always. No sun browns her high pale cheeks, no Light scorches her loyal subjects that kill and hurt and want only to do her bidding, if only she will give them what they miss.
if only, if only.
She loves her subjects, loves them all the same –
The peasants with bitter envy eyes that throw their dirty, empty arms at her: so unfair, very unfair, how unfair it all is! And she smiles and nods with a black scepter and silver crown: yes, yes, it is unfair and I will fix it all for you, my loves .
She loves her subjects, loves them all the same—
The born-again poorhouse beggars in tattered antique lace that pine for crumbling mansions and cracked tea sets: give it back, give it back, give it back! And she smiles and nods with a black scepter and silver crown: yes, yes, I will give it back, if only you'd allow my army out of the gates.
if only, if only.
Her soldiers are the many charcoaled-vagabonds that rose from the dirty streets - black insect children with guillotine-thick hands that sing and swing away at the hearts of the pretty pretty men and women in silk and frills and white-caked powder wigs. They do not feel happy for the slaughter but she does, and her poor subjects might, if only she could weave the darkened hearts into a million fitted shirts before the Light comes to burn her at the witch-stake.
if only, if only.
The Light comes swift, mercy lost long ago when she stole away his island-bound Helen of Troy and his poor-pretty silver seashell prince couldn't resist her, either. He stole the literal heart of the ladies-in-waiting while she tossed trinkets and toys to reward him—good boy, good pet, good prince.
But that was long ago, and now she burns—burns, with her subjects slain or worm-bound and her soldiers fleeing from the fire and Light and the crackle-pop of her red-hot bustle seams busting open.
She bleeds black over white carpet and oh—if only the Light could blind the stain away.
if only, if only.