Daughter of Crows.


In the frozen North where the moon wanes dim,
A shadow was born, her fate cold and grim.
No dragon's roar heralded her cry,
But the caw of crows in the midnight sky.

Beneath the wings of the ebony birds,
She learned the language of whispered words.
With eyes like storm and hair of snow,
She walked the paths where others won’t go.

The daughter of kings, yet born in the night,
She carried the weight of a different light.
Not fire, nor flame, but shadows deep,
Secrets to guard and oaths to keep.

In the darkened halls of a distant keep,
Where echoes of power silently seep,
She waits and watches, her heart on guard,
For the throne she claims, she plays her card.

With dragons below and crows above,
She seeks no crown, she seeks no love.
Yet in her gaze, a truth is spun,
A tale of ice, of night begun.

Through whispers of wind and ancient lore,
The daughter of crows seeks something more.
Not gold, nor throne, nor banners flown,
But a place where her shadows are her own.

The North may call with its winter chill,
But her blood runs hot, her will is still.
She’s the daughter of crows, a shadow’s flight,
Silent and swift, through the endless night.