A/N:

This is...strange and dark. It's just one of those things that popped into my head and demanded I write it down. I apologize for the formatting--I've had to use section breaks to separate the poem's stanzas b/c I don't know how to change the automatic formatting yet (anyone have some tips?)

Mere Females

How strange That a mere female holds the Giga Slave's power.

But I know for a fact that it is so

And I smile.

Loose that spell

And you lose the world.

Let her cast it again!

She'll never have the will to control it,

Not this flame-haired sorceress.

Not this mere female.

So I set my servant to guide her

And those who call themselves her friends,

To put them in the path of the bloodthirsty Traitor.

Why reach for only one goal

When you can grasp two at once?

I make my contact

and send flame-hair to the battleground

on the Mount of Dragons.

A straggler comes

Green of hair, empty of head.

She will take me there.

When she does not look,

I sneer

At this mere female.

I watch the games

As the battle begins.

Two spheres circle about

They mock this rabble,

And oh, how I laugh!

But what's this?

The cry of a spell I do not know

And little black-hair leaps forward.

Something burns in that small frame.

Beige-cloak comes to her side in battle

And dust explodes.

She shouts victory to the sky—

When the Hidden One appears

And she's cast down.

So much for you,

Mere female.

The Hidden One is destroyed

But now he comes,

The Traitor, the master, shows his face.

Flame-hair is weakened

(couldn't handle him, could you?)

beige-cloak and blue-sword step forward.

Alas for them, they'll not last long.

But my plans won't suffer.

The Gold One has stepped in

(oh, if only he knew!)

He'll save her,

My mere female.

Beige-cloak and blue-clad,

The swordsmen lay weakened.

Their time ends in just a moment more.

But, lo! A voice from on high!

Little black-hair has lived.

She speaks of Justice,

And says she will stand.

The Traitor has been challenged.

O, thou fool,

Thou precious fool!

Thou foolish, black-haired female.

The flame-haired one

Recovers now,

Her all-or-nothing dare

Brings the three-fanged Traitor down.

I am quite amazed…

Though I sense he is still there.

Their bile-churning waves of joy

Return to savory fear once more.

The time has come

To show my face,

The Traitor meets his death.

The flame-haired bait has done its work

But I have purposes still waiting,

Plans for this mere female.

Who next plays bait?

Green-hair is rival, she'll never do,

Though beige-cloak and black-hair are friends.

But blue-sword—ah, yes!—this is the one,

She'd fight for them but, oh, for him,

I sense the feelings.

Always ruled by emotion,

Ever your weakness.

I have you now,

Dear female.

So flame-hair comes

(of course she comes)

Down to my temple lair.

Two more are with her, both new to me.

The green-brim, all sword and no magic,

No use to me,

And doe-eyes who called this her home.

We all bandy words

But there comes a surprise:

Flame-hair and doe-eyes together

Cast Lord Ruby-eye's spell.

Who ever thought doe-eyes could do it?

I'll teach them,

These mere females.

So I bring the rest here

To the crystal graveyard,

I tell them I'll show them my power:

The golden spheres, a palmfull of lives.

And there she is,

Little blak-hair again.

Is this not twice that she's survived?

And I see those blue eyes, the absolute faith.

All fight and no fear.

Yes, something burns in that small frame.

Could this…be a threat I hadn't considered?

Well, not for long.

We'll start with you.

Black-hair is the first to die:

Black-hair for believing,

Beige-cloak for grieving

And doe-eyes between them for free.

Green-brim for trying,

Green-hair for crying

And that leaves just flame-hair and me.

I've sung her the litany of death

But still she won't bend.

Why not?

Yet the bait is still mine.

As the crystal cracks

So does her resolve—as I knew it would!

She calls to the Darkness beyond Blackest Pitch

And my ambitions are realized.

The glorious energy surges out of control

And….

Black turns to gold.

In the flame-hair's form, She is made manifest.

I look my own death in the face,

In the form of the Mother of All,

I know that they will live, by Her will.

And now I see

What I had forgotten:

There is no such thing

As mere female.