Game of Thrones Poem: House Stark

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic


A poem describing the sigil and mentality of Game of Thrones House Stark

Submitted: February 22, 2018

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Submitted: February 22, 2018

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House Stark

Stark are the days of long summers past.

Now the frigid icy winds, blizzards and snow will last.

Upon the frost do numerous armies march,

Towards the heavens do their bloody arrows arch, as

The North remembers all the young who have fallen,

As the Great War rises upon sworn bannermen.

Brothers of honor, born low or born high,

All must stand proud against The Long dark Night.

The Old Gods watch, always silent and sure.

Winter Is Coming.

They've all said that it would.

And until the glorious day when we all die

Shall the whispering weirwoods stand high.

 


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