Joan of Arc

I was just thirteen years old, a young maid, A peasant girl at that, who for most of the time, Tended the animals in the fields, on my father’s farm, In my hometown, Domremy France Then one day to my surprise visits from angels, With messages from on high. Saying, You have been chosen, to lead France to victory, Against the English, in war” Why me! With no military training? I said, God has seen your dedication, and spirit, Your love towards the Catholic Church, Now go to the Crowned Prince Charles, Convincing him that it is by these visions, that you are led. Because we have seen France, torn apart far too long” At the age of sixteen, my journey began, Cutting my hair down, and dressed as a man, I vowed chastity, and knew the plan, In white armor, on a white horse, I rode to conquer, I rode to win, My victories spread far and wide, with armies and followers. My mission, my destiny, to save France, To expel the enemy, of overwhelming importance, Battle after battle, conquer after conquer, Nothing could stop me now, my confidence grew, And God by my side, the English were being defeated, My reputation spread far and wide, I was becoming so much too powerful, For my own good, and so much, Too strong, by the grace of God. That a trial was brought forth against me, By the people whom I led, how could, this be such a thing, Seventy charges of witchcraft and heresy, Imprisonment they said! Oh how my heart bled, No attempts of help from the Prince, No rescue, he said, Or he too would be discredited, Cut off from his head, I was imprisoned one year, and feared for my life, Forced to sign a treaty, Denying all divine intervention and guidance from God, A death sentence was pronounced. I was led, Fastened to the stake, Burnt in the flames, until my body was dead.