Enough, An homage to the game that rocked me to sleep.
If every wave in every field—
If every cave and travel yield—
Were much softer here than they were…
If I traveled as far as the maps could take
still no one but me saw the flames on the stakes,
around me— would have been
enough to calm my thoughts…
But the world felt so small.
What place could there be?
where the walls were warm red…
And the sky was pitch black,
that freed a whole nation, from the God they called me.
The torches in the dark, were
And every saddle, gave ne’er enough stars to fill my pockets.
And every grain of earth,
Like heavy, worthless hearth.
As kings construct empires
Yet none of my smiles compared to the jest.
The cost of freedom, is worthless.
Every diamond, and every gold bar–
I wasted on shoes that ran without soles,
I wasted on swords that swung without hilts,
And realized with each speck of snow on my skin,
That I couldn’t die till the day I was buried—
In the fields, in the ocean
In the caves, in the hells
In the void which told me that I could be love,
That my world was worthless
bereft the beat of others
This hell could be enough?
and each place I would beg:
Could water fill lungs that yearned but for breath?
But the skies and the woods
And the hells would remind me:
I would never breathe a breath
on an island lost to time.
I would never be fulfilled—
baratheonpilled
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