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A poem written by Clay
The virgin breast with lilies white
For she is fairer than the sun and surpasses every constellation of the stars
She is the purest embossing on the shield of France
Armed with only her prayers on this day
She moves meekly along the square
Face paler than the ivory crowning her kings Chăteu de chinen.
She doesnt bear her usual armor-clad form
Instead, she wears an unfamiliar uniform that showcases the young girl she
truly is.
Daughter of god remember your childhood days
You tended only to weak lambs...
You reach into the sky and pull down a phonograph yet the people fiddle while
Rome burns.
Your hands are as clean as air and that's worth repeating but they are mad.
The smoke blew away and before her was shown an elaborate kingdom.
He sees her wince, he sees her cry
the glory in her eye
He greets her sitting on his low wooden throne, Relaying the people's last act
of gratitude and rewarding her with a formless fiery crown
More radiant, more beautiful than at your King's coronation.
The bright red flames take her body as an exchange to show the reflection of
eternal glory
Sacrificing her body to the flames
She heard the voices of the blessed.
A baby dove flies up above the crowd and looks into the zenith
And there she found her goal; a prayer loud enough to repent all their souls.
Daughter of god forgive us
Joan, you are my only hope
Come down to save us
Come down to save me
Come and save her a second time.
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