Stripped of jewels, clothed in scandal,
they escort her to the sharpened blade
to further strip her body
of curlless hair and rougeless cheeks.
She wears a dress that once was pink
but now is black to mourn
a lifestyle, children, and a spouse
whose royal blood is mixed
in the mud her stylish shoes
sink into with each step.
As she climbs the stairs
she steps on the toe
of the executioner, his hand resting
on the blood-splattered lever,
and she says,
<i>Monsieur, I beg your pardon</i>
before lying down.
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