Even the worst of us get a happy end,
In some ways life unfair,
Good still stands the test of time,
A undeserved reward,
For the Emperor and his witch,
They both promise during stolen hours to learn from past misdeeds,
For somewhere in their mind they both reject their prize
They've paid their dues,
As it's unsure whether great times make a great person
But they can certainly destroy one.
Blood still soaked Lelouch's dreams,
Decades after it was shed,
Still carrying regrets,
From when he had been a much younger man
He thought he'd never live this long,
To lead Brittania's (almost) peaceful era,
Trying not to think of the lives it took to get there.
Because the world is stubborn
Maybe one person's death would knock it off center for a while,
But not even he could save humans from themselves,
Their greed for power insatiable.
And the (not so) beloved Emperor's counterpart,
She a constant reminder of why and how he's here,
A platonic bond that's accumulated a different meaning,
Their age difference growing more and more scandalous,
And soon everyone will notice,
That his partner is still as young as blackberry winter,
her strength's not fading too,
Ghosts of former smiles and frowns,
Not echoing on her face,
As they do the Emperor's;
According to many a testament of his wisdom,
The first bit of silver that streaks his raven hair,
Hidden safe under a crown, it was brought about by another war,
A rebellion in fact,
But having staged one himself he knows all the tricks,
Where to strike and what will leave them broken.
Empires definitely don't rule themselves,
Or inherit themselves either,
But no one wants a child,
To see this ugly world,
So Nunnally is waiting, always eclipsed by Lelouch the 99th,
She thinks it will take the 100th to finally set things right.
Guidance is all the Emperor's little sister receives; not respect,
The fairytale of belonging to the coveted vi Brittania bloodline
Sparks of anger at how her name read after C.C's,
In the royal pecking order.
Though she didn't wish for Lelouch's death
Unnoticed in the dark of night,
On starlit wings through his open window,
His misery's reprieve; one final gift.
He had wanted it so badly in the early days he could scantly remember,
An eye for an eye.
The last time Emperor Lelouch fell asleep to rest aching and weary bones,
Euphie was in his dream, stretching out a hand, bloodstains still intact.
The passing mourned by many,
A bullet to his head or sword through his stomach,
To lie there as the world is stunned beyond measure
Eventually rejoicing, cheering, laughing at his sacrifice,
That's how he had expected to go.
A/N: I know this scenario would never happen, but I just wanted to try writing a poem.