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Jean d’Arc’s Ghost

June 13, 2016

Somedays I feel like Jean d’Arc

courageous, powerful, strong

unafraid to burn alive

to prove that power’s evil bent is wrong

so tie me to the stake

my battle cry will rage on.

Racing through a meadow,

I imagine I draw an arrow from my quiver

take aim at the great beast

but greed, injustice, and hate

lack a physical space.

For me to drive my arrow in I need more than a bow

so racing through the meadow,

I weave these words, craft them just so.

Complacency is a bed fellow,

and it’s this I want to fight

in this modern space.

I close my eyes, the grass beneath

blush pink sky above

and feel Jean’s ghost come over me,

I’m surrounded by her love.

Filled with passion, filled with drive

each morning rises new.

A fresh chance for me to take out this anger

and replace the hate in you.



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