The Changeling
Once upon
a dreary vale,
a ghostly image
floating pale
Set my hair
to stand on end,
a living nightmare
did begin
Through the tree
she passed with ease,
floating gently
as a breeze
White her hands
were pearly hue,
nails were red
and veins ran blue
Auburn hair
that glittered fire,
dressed in webs
that spoke desire
Sweeping hand
across my lips,
writhing wildly
image shifts
In Changeling form
she was renewed,
shining with
a golden hue
Cold as ice,
that grace the poles,
wrapping around
my spirit folds
A tongue of fire
ripped my soul,
in changeling form
I now enfold
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