Past the narrow sea, where lands the king,
Squabbles for an **** 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!
I wrote this poem on 3 April 2017, prior to the start of Season 7 of Game Of Thrones at HBO. Also published at my blog, https://gaffingaround.wordpress.com/2017/08/31/gaffe-12/