Last night I spent too much time watching some military weapon's video footage on YouTube.
As I fell asleep, a weapon's silhouette showed up in my dream, with a voice came from nowhere, read a poem sound like this:
A birthmark I have, like a letter in capital.
A war boy I am, yet friends regard me as a girl.
Interested in music, though I'm playing it poorly.
On an iron stave with all the notes, a symphony has made proudly.
When the concert begun, the notes were flying away.
As the dull sound went on, the evil had faded away.
What am I?