The Changeling

Prayers amongst the cold
ash-stricken
skies.

I saw you there
weaving pretty lies
along edges of night,
with all your hellish plights,
as you lose sight,
of your innocent light.

Prayers amongst the cold
eve of unquiet 
dead.

I saw you there,
screaming your past regrets,
crying out what needed to be said,
while following the blood you've bled,
as you dye your childhood red.

Prayers amongst the cold
words of forgotten
tales.

I saw you there,
with your abandoned sails,
your dreams and everything you've failed,
neglecting the praises you've hailed,
while traveling the icy gales.

Prayers amongst the cold,
for the weeping stories
untold.