Jeanne d'Arc
This is inspired by Brutus, by The Buttress.
I've heard His voice since I was a child
The bells ring, the wind howled, the saints smiled
A mission, a name, a sword to wield
A kingdom to save, a fate to be sealed
I hate the way they watch me, whispering their doubt
Their fingers make the cross, their tongues fill with shouts
She's only a girl, she's truly a fool,
But I am a blade, and I am His tool.
They strip me down, they measure my worth,
Not by my sword, but the state of my birth,
Fingers press, prayers are read-
Am I pure enough to die in their stead?
Or am I just wishing that I could be more?
Not just a woman, but someone adored?
Not just a soldier, but someone divine?
If I take up this sword, would it really be mine?
No it's not true, I have never lied,
But they call me the Devil, say God's not on my side,
The voices, the visions-they cast them in shame,
The same holy men who once prayed in my name.
My name is Jeanne, and I was born in fire
So with a burning heart
I will climb higher and higher
You gave me a sword, but stripped me of grace
You crowned him a King, then spat in my face.
But I too have a destiny,
My name will endure,
The world will remember, time won't obscure.
You cast me to ashes but still, I remain.
No daughters, no sons, yet they still scream my name.
I always knew I could be the one
Though I feel the endless pain of burning
and I am scorched by the Son
My whole life lived with gender by constraint,
My name is Jeanne, but the people will call me Saint.