Game of Thrones
Ashes all around, raining down
Drowning the misery with more
The floating specks of grey
That were once a rosy pink
Filled with fragrance and life
The flowers paved the way ahead
New love blossoming under the trees
First kisses behind the school buildings
Birds pecking at the ample rice grains
And a happy, happy place.
Nothing much has changed since
Only the air thick with morbid death
The boundless bed of ashes giving way
To nameless faces half buried in eternal sleep
Thorns drawing blood with every step
Unmarked tombs crowding weeping trees
Dried tears on the unturned pages
Vultures scavenging for fleshes of suffering
But the throne got an heir at long last
So a happy, happy place it is still.
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