Ser Kevan

Ser Kevan had been just a younger brother all his life
But for the first time he was holding power in his hands
And he wanted one last time to meet his dearest wife
But he was forced to worry about the North and the Stormlands

The Grand Maester wanted guards, that he could not give
The people waited for the duels of frightening Robert Strong
The Queen was asking if his wife the Westerlands would leave
Autumn, everybody knew, wouldn’t last for long

Mace Tyrell, Hand of the King, was lusting for more power
The last Baratheon in the North would not give up the fight
A Dornish would soon break the balance of lion and flower
And yet none of that mattered, not on that last night

The Spider killed him the night, he didn’t greet the sun
Amaze and fear and not even the time to feel the anger
A quarrel, then the children started coming one by one
And as they came he noticed, in their hands the daggers

By Franz95       

The Game of Thrones is the game I play each and every day, My little birdies sing me songs and the realm I do repay. The Spider they do call me, my web is spun afar. I catch the false and treacherous in my little jar Whom do I serve,you might ask? The answer’s pretty meek, The realm, of course,the children, The humble ,and the weak. Some one must, is my refrain to ensure the rule is just. No more chaos,no more pain for the less illustrious. I whisper into King’s ears, I make suggestions to the rest, I am a mummer,don’t forget, At that I am the best My real reasons for what I do, you will have to guess, Blackfyre or Targaryen, which house do I bless? Or is my knee to Lannister bent, or in disguise a Stark? To reckon my true calling really is no lark Ilyrio is my true friend,on that we are agreed But the motives of the fat Pentoshi seem more than simple need. Can you guess what I’m about? I really doubt you can for I’m a Eunoch,sorely cut I’m really not a Man
by redriver

The Game of Thrones is the game I play
each and every day,
My little birdies sing me songs
and the realm I do repay.

The Spider they do call me,
my web is spun afar.
I catch the false and treacherous
in my little jar

Whom do I serve,you might ask?
The answer’s pretty meek,
The realm, of course,the children,
The humble ,and the weak.

Some one must, is my refrain
to ensure the rule is just.
No more chaos,no more pain
for the less illustrious.

I whisper into King’s ears,
I make suggestions to the rest,
I am a mummer,don’t forget,
At that I am the best

My real reasons for what I do,
you will have to guess,
Blackfyre or Targaryen,
which house do I bless?

Or is my knee to Lannister bent,
or in disguise a Stark?
To reckon my true calling
really is no lark

Ilyrio is my true friend,on that we are agreed
But the motives of
the fat Pentoshi
seem more than simple need.

Can you guess what I’m about?
I really doubt you can
for I’m a Eunoch,sorely cut
I’m really not a Man

by redriver