Game of Thrones Poem: House Greyjoy

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic


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

Submitted: February 23, 2018

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Submitted: February 23, 2018

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House Greyjoy

We Do Not Sow.

Amidst the longships we fiercely row,

Our Lord Reaper claims the Salt Throne.

While we pay the iron price,

Mainlander’s throats our blades will slice.

The Kraken’s arms stretch, the Son of the sea,

Crying that followers of the Drowned God we shall always be.

The flayed man with skin wrinkled and grey

Is Drowned in the depths of the black stormy wave.

Strong and true among the swords of men,

Reavers, rapes and raids shall never end.

Upon the darkened isle of Pyke

Rebellion and death consumed the sea alike.

Forever upon the seas will warriors arise,

Shouting “What is Dead May Never Die!”

 


© Copyright 2020 Mya Maola. All rights reserved.

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