In the deepest of Winter

After a long summer, winter has finally come
as the cold winds blow, the far North from.
The green grass seas have long gone dry
and white flakes fall from a dark gray sky.

Now the sun begins to hide its face in fear
while in the far North white shadows appear.
Blue stars are shining on moon pale faces
and darkness enfolds the Northern places.

When the white frost lies not only on peaks
and every tear freezes already on the cheeks
the human heart beats slower in the cold
it doesn’t matter if one is fearsome or bold.

Beware if not prepared for a long winter
for warmth it is to burn every splinter.
When the drums of the cold winds demur
a skinless man wishes for a White Bear’s fur. (Bolton vs. Umber) ;)

When in winter every mile becomes two
and winter’s weather disturbs the view
then kings got stuck in deepest snow
and all his bannermen are getting slow.

Now men are marching to where the Winter fell
until a snowstorm rises in a period of dwell.
The icy voice of death cries in a screechy tone
when apace in the frozen horns of war is blown.

The ink freezes before words are written
and knights’ hands by icy swords are bitten.
Silvery clouds cover the lands for many miles
from the great Wall as far as to the Iron Isles.

The Winter’s breath comes down the Wall
and the lowest light shows the shadows tall.
The Snow has fallen and lies pale and cold
while a dead man’s Ghost tries life to hold.

The earth is gone down in deepest grief
and from a weirwood falls a single leaf.
The ravens are seen more than other birds
to carry a message: dark wings, dark words.

Though all is covered in darkness and cold
old prophecies promise smoke and salt.
When the most sad time is here to cry
a red star will bleed in the darkest sky!

In the color of frost a blue rose will rise again
at the Wall, where he felt his deepest pain.
Great winged shadows will be seen on snow
and the crack of leathern wings will cause a row

The Winter is hard, but the Starks will endure
this is how it always was and will be, for sure.
In the deepest winter spring can’t be far behind
as the night is darkest before the dawn, remind!

by Walder Waters

The Rightful Claimant

It matters not who owns the crown
He’ll take it anyway
The largest army falls to him
With this, he plans to stay

“Cease this madness, foolish boy,
We’ll decimate each other.”
“You’re wrong,” he says, “it’s you who’ll die,
So bow to me, my brother.”

Two more kings vie for the throne
And say they’re each the one
The passed king’s brother of Dragonstone,
And, too, his “trueborn” son

“Begone, you vile evil brat,
It’s my crown that you wear.”
“And who are you to tell me so?
When I’m the rightful heir?”

The longheld reign of King Aegon
Has fled, yet still it lives
The dragon girl and dragon boy
Will take what’s hers and his

“The cursed Usurper stole my throne!”
The dragon queen decrees
“What of you? Our bloodline says
That throne belongs to me.”

As madness falls, the northerners
Have chosen to secede
The ironborn now seize their chance
And, too, decide to leave

“Some conqueror, long years ago,
Made us bend the knee
Those distant years have long since gone
We choose now to be free.”

The tattered Folk who stand behind
Their King-Beyond-the-Wall
Will fight and plot and war and try
To claim the land for all

“Who are you to take the realm?
It belongs to every man.
We’ll free you kneelers from your bonds
And take the bloody land!”

A dying race sighs dying breaths
Recalling what was theirs
Pushed ever farther, higher north
When foolishly they shared

“There was a time we owned the realm
All this, our native land
Forgotten, though, we fade away,
Too weak to make a stand.”

A cold wind blows across a field,
The ground a purest white
A gentle snow drifts calmly from
A sky of purest night

“Too many years of biding time
No longer will suffice
The truest kings return to claim
Our realm - with blood and ice.”

by Silver Spearwife

Bran in the promo of episode 5, "The Ghost of Harrenhal"

The Stark banner, a gif for Lady
(sorry it took so long, the layers didn’t want to match)

The Stark banner, a gif for Lady

(sorry it took so long, the layers didn’t want to match)

The War of the Five Kings

The War of the Five Kings

All the faithful, all believers
all the godly men of North
pray their prayers to the Old Gods
bowing in the holy wood.

And I’m happy and I sing
this old hymn to all of them,
who do watch me through the trees
and I pray before their eyes.

Cold clear rivers, frozen north wind,
yellow stars up in the sky —
I see my gods in all nature
and it helps me through my life.

And I’m happy and I sing
this old hymn to all of them,
who do watch me through the trees
and I pray before their eyes.

by Buckwheat