Then one day, the old man had enough,
... and, it wasn't the mushroom,
... neither the naplam,
... nor any other WMD,
.
.
.
... two degrees more, and that was all it took

Tread softly, as I wait for time,
Twilight of life, well past my prime,
I have had many jobs, some true, rest mime,
... living it when life was a melody to a rhyme,
Good, Bad or Evil! a few crimes,
Some apples, a few limes,
... and courage when life covered me in slime,

I look up to the moon,
... time may be just too soon,
Is death a myth, a truth or a boon?
Past life’s desert, across the dune,
... midnight, after a sunny noon,
No one here, but me and the silence of a croon,
Last meal? I smile and put down my spoon

Past the narrow sea, where lands the king,
Squabbles for an ugly throne, havoc it brings,
The blizzard, the chill, not the warmth of the summery spring,
Here comes the walkers, with skulls on a string,
Will the dragons spit fire? or the night’s watch sing?
… Martin will get to **** more, Castamere a sting?

I watch with eagerness, this fantasy has me glued,
… times, I have smile back at the dwarf, and said, “DUUUUDDEEE” !!!
The mother of dragons had me on one knee, but alas! nothing ensued,
Bankers and black magic at Braavos, both were rude,
Quarth, Mereen and Astapour, far from the royal feud,
The sand snakes and the mountain, not much to conclude

As it goes, “All men must die”!
Martin plays his flute, not much to my cry,
The TV remote, pepsi and potato fries,
Predictions are hopeless, did you say Asshai?
Seven kingdoms, give peace a try,
Give me hope, even if its a lie!

The world will be connected as a fisherman’s net,
... and none to be alone, that you can bet,
Oh, what a world and a fate we have met,
The wealthy rule, rest are their pet.

Dark clouds,
Lonely road,
Friendly trees,
. . . I walk to reach my home.

I come to a crossroad,
To hear a croaking toad,
Which way to go?
. . . the left or the right, be it so?

A puddle or two, a gentle breeze,
Walking past a drone in the trees,
Singing birds, what do they speak?
. . . then the sun comes out, shining past a peak.

Will the leaves sway,
To tell me the way?
. . . the sweet smelling wild flowers may,
Streak their scent, and steal the day.

A tree stump,
A squirrel in the grassy clump,
Pigeons fly here,
… am I any near?

… this tree makes me smile,
Is it the stone to mark the mile?
My journey is soon to end,
Memories to cherish and thoughts to lend.

There I see,
The wooden gate,
. . . here is my garden,
Here is my home

On a blue planet, beneath a glowing sun,
We are bound to life, no place to run,
A soul to be, what can be done?
If there is more to us then forgive the pun.