"Let them eat cake,"
she sneered as she
held her saucer of sadness
'companied by a plateful of
degraded humanity;
that was on the menu for tonight.

Bedazzled with jewels
mined by peasants beneath her.

Liaisons with men in
salons during afternoon tea
as Amadeus plays delightful
laments and requiems
as she eats her cakes
and exchanges cordials.

A wall away from revolutionaries
standing on barricade,
ready to invade.

Fallen society,
gained notoriety.

Her glass hits the floor,
glass is glitter and glamour,
which sprinkles on stairs,
for she will fall
as flames hit palace walls,
and aristocracy expires.

Common man has won,
war has just begun.