Lord of Light

My favorite scene in Game of Thrones (poem) (spoilers).

Lord of Light

A relatively minor moment
in my family

life, and not even one
of the top-five scenes in

Game of Thrones
and which I only remember

because I wrote it down
when it happened, somehow

with the aid of this poem,
which the memory

has completely become, became
not only my favorite scene

in the show, but one of
my favorite memories of all time:

my wife is pregnant
with our second

and we’re on episode
five of season three

where The Hound
and Beric Dondarrion duel—

two of the best
characters in the series

both of whom you love—
The Hound for his

inarticulate rage
at the unrelenting horror

of politics in Westeros
and the guilt he carries

as its former instrument,
plus his face,

scorched in childhood
making fire the only thing

he fears; and Beric,
the patchy-bearded,

eye-patched nobleman
who wields a flaming sword

against his fellow nobles
in defense of the smallfolk

in the name of the Lord of Light
and ultimately against

the army of the dead
in defense of the living—it’s a very

intense fight, and it ends
with Dondarrion cleaved

in half at the shoulder
by The Hound

who believes in nothing
anymore

and scorns Dondarrion’s
pretense at purpose

in an irreparable world.
But then Thoros

the sarcastic, depressed
and perpetually shitfaced

priest of the Lord of Light
whispers a prayer over the corpse

of Beric, bringing him back to life
before The Hound’s eyes

blowing his mind—
and at that moment

the baby kicked for the first time.