The Wild One

She was the one they called wild.
Labeled when she’s still a child.
“Shes a witch” they cried out.
She was different. No doubt.
But her history has been filed.

At 19 she burned at the stake,
But only after her Orleans wake.
But that’s the course of man’s fear:
That women take what’s dear.
The testimonies they tried to fake.

You see, before she was twenty,
She out performed men a plenty.
Her courage was truly unmatched,
But Burgundy’s plan was hatched.
And to a fiery death went she.

Witch or not, she had divine spark,
And got the dreaded witch’s mark
Her life was glorious, but short,
When she failed the bishop’s court.
But now she is [Saint] Joan of Arc.