Game of Houses

kitty the naughty poet

Noone kills the walkers

as a lion poisons the flower,

in the battle of roar against growth

winter wolves ride alongside the dragon

bathed in blood and wildfire

lions buried beneath the red keep,

lay slated with the sand snakes

unbowed to no one

unbent to gods unknown

unbroken to spirits of captured men

as fate takes dragon's horns

when the battle with flame won

the white wolf outlasts them all

blazing north,

beyond the ice wall,

now that winter has come.

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Comments3

  • AL17

    Lovely!

  • Paul Bell

    Wolves always outshine the rest, the howl being their boastful cry.
    Great poem.

  • L. B. Mek

    this should be the blurb
    on the back cover!
    so well written, and
    such a classic last line
    thank you!



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