Between the snows and gales that shoughed
A little girl was born
Far up the kingsroad, past the moat
A world away from Dorne
From dawn to dusk they rang the bells
And ravens filled the skies
To spread the word of Winterfell’s
New babe with Tully eyes
A pretty girl, the bluest stare
And fire in her hair
In time a Lady, sweet and fair
And often found in prayer
Before the seven in the sept
With chants by candlelight
And though that was the faith she kept
She sought the weirwood’s might
For every morn come sun or rain
She stole between the trees
And prayed for something quite inane
To old gods on her knees
She prayed for love without delay,
For them to right her wrongs,
To travel somewhere far away
With pretty lights and songs
And so one day the winds of change
Veered off and howled her way,
Took it upon to rearrange
Her joy to grave dismay
Because as is the case with life
And any in her throes
The purest hearts are lost to strife
And wishes turn to woes
And so it was, both knights and squires
No more than charming lies
The pretty lights were burning pyres
And songs the burial cries
That nest of snakes upon a stage
She had to call her home
For she, a songbird in a cage
Had nothing but her comb
And though she lied and played the part
She kept them in her heart
Three brothers and a sister and
A sixth who stood apart
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