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THE NORTH REMEMBERS
Our time is mundane,
But we can recall it vividly,
The prowling of the direwolves.
The crowned stag.
The roar of the lion,
And the dance of dragons.
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We remember the stench of war,
The game of thrones,
The five kings,
The edge of the world: the wall.
We remember the children: their magic,
The broken chains of Essos.
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We remember the words:
Winter is coming,
Because it came,
With it the long night and it's king.
Yet now the world forgets.
But the north remembers.
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Inspired by GAME OF THRONES TV Series and ASOIAF by G. R. R Martin.
YOU ARE READING
The Stars in my Hands
PoetryThe stars in my hands: is a poetic prose work capturing each star in 3 short poems. Alexander Lorien
