Alchemisland

I have to search online to read about half the family

In pursuit of lost and matching genius; all is vanity

Not quite lost tribes but got no eyes on them

I’d scale the Wall for the man who guarantees me Harrenhal

Up early upturning soil getting worms, above me larks turning

Like knights at tourney, lances missing inchwide life adjourning.

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The King resplendently arrayed, at mirth among such merriment his coffers paid

He longs that every month would see such revels, festivities which never cease

At each thrilling tilt and joust, he shouts hooray his delight loudly conveying

No festival of the austere gods could make such gaiety as this; the melee

Lasts three days, lowborn whelks are raised without delay having bested blade maesters

At their best game, indeed many fierce only in name were found faking, ailing, japesters

Who at steel’s argument relented and begged pardon, heart and body hardened

Like a blade worked and sharpened by a flaxen Andvari, the mind a time-tended garden

Whose blessed fruit borne to blooming are the soilent marriage of toil and ardour

Like water o’erflamed can a heart be brought to boil violently, compelled to defile and defame

No good can be done today, I know this in my heart yet I am on my way there

My blade unsheathed blood-seeking, screaming like a steel eagle, my empty scabbard swaying

Like a windsock on a handsome pole oakenstock on the frostkissed rainslick Galway Bay

At day’s end new lords are made under the domed roof of that ancient hall scribes call

The siegekeeper’s fall, or the Forestaller, girdled by four impenetrable walls

Circled by a galling moat full of old horse bones and rusting plate, a grated barbican

Twin-towered like September 8th, black arrows like we had to slay Smaug sundarken

Eyes sunken, dispositions hard, but hearty and heartful, around the hearth heartening songs

Tankards of sour ale are passed around, each taking fill

The King’s quotient of that potion equal to his page, equal the priest and the gameplayer

Hand to hand to lip to lip, dripping amber syrup into beards

Kneeling when bade thence arising newfound, remade

Blade flat cold on battered brow, plate scratched grey and slashed bloody.