Changeling

The audience in my head
Says I should be dead.
A crowd in my brain
Reminds me I'm not the same.
And somehow the dark
Has left such a deep mark.
I'm left now to wonder
Where's the light and thunder?
It's good for a little,
But I'm just too brittle.
A maze with no close,
Like a long, thorny prose.
An overwhelming dread
Fills my spirit with lead.
One day, it'd be nice
To see the sun thaw ice.
Where the blooms rejoice,
And life comes by choice.
For now, I'm in mud,
And I lust for warm blood.