Nothing is the Same

A short poem, I can't remember what its about.

The shadows sing with blighted kings
Gathering echoes in their reign
For all thats naught which death has wrought
The silence speaks their pain

Days that die, as days often do
The echoes screen all thats true
Turn with crown in hand, to speak with shame
And cross the night to place the blame

But the sorrow wins as the silence sings
And nothing is the same
A stronger heart would quell the dark
But nothing is the same