Westeros

In a dress of crimson fire,
A woman rows a boat, her heart’s desire.

On a lake of glass, serene and bright,
She glides beneath a canopy of light.

With gentle strokes, she breaks the hush,
A whisper on the water, a gentle crush

Of oar and wave, a rhythm’s beat,
A lullaby for worries at her feet.

The mountains rise, a verdant hue,
Reflected in the waters, endlessly blue.

She seeks a solace, clear and deep,
A moment’s peace where worries sleep.

Where troubles fade and drift away,
Lost in the beauty of dawning day.