He rode through the streets of the city,
Down from his hill on high.
O'er the wynds and the steps and the cobbles,
He rode to a woman's sigh.
For she was his secret treasure,
She was his shame and his bliss.
And a chain and a keep are nothing,
Compared to a woman's kiss.
For hands of gold are always cold,
But a woman's hands are warm!
For hands of gold are always cold,
But a woman's hands are warm!
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Game of Thrones Poems
PoetryPoems, prophecies, visions and songs from either I created, fans create or I find from the book/tv show. I hope you enjoy reading them Links - https://allpoetry.com/contest/2682117-Game-of-Thrones-