2016 08 23
I have no joy, faith, or love left to hide
inside the tangled labyrinth of my heart
for everyone I ever loved has died
and ghost of hope pierces me with his dart.
My dress is torn from running among trees
and blood-smeared face stares at me from deep pool
till moon rays behind storm clouds flash to freeze
my beating heart to statue of a fool.
They snatched me while I strolled market to home
and men flashed coins for hour to pierce my soul,
but I escaped their clutching hands to roam
burning woods and hide in deep starless hole.
I blossomed long ago in garden walls
like a red rose beside the singing well,
but now I weep alone by waterfalls
for I am the Bruised Rose of Winterfell.
The blue-eyed bard sang spells to charm my heart
and praised the fragrant glow of my pure soul
but now my fantasies all fall apart
and now I float unnamed in listless shoal.
I once paraded wearing silk in court
but now I gather apples in the dell
and brew sweet cider hidden in lost fort
since I am the Bruised Rose of Winterfell.