Kingswood

Slayers at bay

Lords on his land

Gotta listen what he says

Dear if I can stand.

All of his power

Its where it resides

Men who think sharper

And everything else it rides.

Not just a page

Sixteen of those slots

Feeding my mind in a cage

All to save one that rots.

Hold all its chairs

The ruling is not just a case

Solve all its fears

Survival in priority to chase.

You may lose all

And every one that belongs

Weak to fall

And victory to the strong.

But we all know so

At the end of the game of thrones

Which of color wins the show

All goes in the same box of stones.