Arya

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Swift as a deer through a peaceful green meadow
But softer than that- quiet as a shadow
She reacts in an instant- quick as a snake
Yet is as calm as still water in the deepest black lake
A ghost in the crowd- she goes by many names
Forsaken by all- she follows her own aims
Though noble of birth she rolls in the mud
She dreams of the wolf that holds ties to her blood
Though she dances on water her home is in ice
Her fate is uncertain- like a roll of the dice
Her story is tragic and she fights to forget
But she still overcomes each and every threat
Of those ladies and lords she cut all the cords
For fear cuts deeper than swords.

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