Musings of Tyrion Lannister
Witty things are often said
About a man once he is dead
His actions great or small
Are like echoes in a hall
What was, will be again
Such is the story of all men
A cycle never ending
Of fates never mending
Perhaps this game we all play
Will end abruptly one fine day
And we will finally see
We are puppets, never free
The young queen sits on the throne
Ruling an uneasy realm she calls her own
The loyal bear guards her side
In him all things does she confide
I sit here with my wine
Nothing more do I call mine
I am at peace with my small lot
I've lived through all the battles that I fought
I've played the game, I want no more
I wait for the quieter things in store
Wine, books, and a house by the sea
Are all that matter now to me