Joan Of Arc Poem by Natalya Korsakoff
Joan Of Arc
The world around is cold and dark
Like prison cell for Joan of Arc
All I remember aspen park
your vicious glance that seemed to spark
you tried my faith for own lark
but I believed my mind was dark.
They called me vile Joan of Arc
I didn't care I was stark
but not immune to such ill-luck
my prison cell is cold and dark
The heat of fire begins to spark
to warm up freezing Joan of Arc
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/29/2026 8:18:34 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
