My Joan of Arc…


 My Joan of Arc…

She painted her make-up upon perfect skin. She turned to me and she told me . I need my war face tonight. I rarely show my real face to anyone. I used to pray for perfect life. Now I pray to keep death away and find reasons to live.

She was my leather and lace. She was my black in heart beauty. I told her. No perfect life my dear love. All of us had sins and create pain and hell. No perfect soul. I have begged for mercy in the fire of love and I had ran from true salvation. You cannot repair the deeds of foolishness.

She laughed at my words and she came close to me. Whispered. “I use to pray for someone like you. Someone who would accept my scars and my heavy weight of regret. But, dead hearts and blind eyes…

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