Game Of Thrones, Game Of Thrones, Game Of Thrones, The hero for me was Tyrion Lannister, He always tried to do what was right, The small man with the great noble heart, He knew the dragon queen was insane like her father, So who sits on The Iron Throne? Tyrion Lannister, Tyrion Lannister, Tyrion Lannister.
Oh, "Game Of Thrones", I miss it so, with all the good looking gents, what's an aging poetess to do, but lament, the sight of Kit Harington's assets, (no, not the **** acting!), made me want to take a trip down memory lane, so I got packing, this gray old hen remembers when- teenage summer nights laying on the sand, then- getting quite sufficiently drunk with delightful young men!
The Lion and The Wolf met in the Dark The Lion said that all the wolf could do was bark But the wolf ignored The Lion as he got closer The Lion felt like he would get rammed over by a bulldozer However The Lion said hear me roar It was loud and it scared, the stag, dragon and also the boar The Lion is The King of Creatures Golden pelt is one of its majestic features
I haven’t posted something in months I made this up in seconds for fun
a white dove. a simple lie. sweet regret. a mother's cry. death's prayer. a single lullaby. a crow's caw. deepest night. a snowy mountain. a lover's duet. burning fires. a war cry. a queen's people. far away. a storm comes. a war begins.
The salt water washes away the sin crashing on the rocks so violently, trickling down tracing my skin the most beautiful symphony. There’s nothing that I detest more than the sand encasing my toes, but still my home sits on the shore I love the depth and adore the lows.
Drag me down into the sea where I’ve always been destined to be, The waves strongly embracing my heart stopping yet racing.
I’ll be a drowned god, for what is dead may never die, but rises again stronger and harder. Among the bass and the cod I’ll never again see the sky sacrifice my heart to be a martyr.
You know sand is a kin to soil for underwater the seaweed will grow, and with passion the bubbles boil we do not reap; we do not sow. Hoarding a seashell collection though I can not craft jewelry, I’d still offer quite a selection a salt crown was never meant for me.
Drag me down into the sea where I’ve always been destined to be. The tide will lock on and carry me until I’m listing and sinking.
I’ll be a drowned god, for what is dead may never die, but rises again stronger and harder. And I may be very flawed, to that I could never deny I can’t negotiate nor can I barter.
Drag me down to the sea where I’ve always been destined to be. An escape where no one can flee, forever cursed to be drowning.
I’ll be a drowned god, I’ll rise again but painfully slow. No one will wait to applaud, but we do not reap and we do not sow.
For what is dead may never die, but rises instead stronger than I. For what is dead may never die, I never lead and following; I could never try.