Game Of Thrones, Season 6 Episode 5 – ‘The Door’ | Review – Evermore

IN-Cinema | By on May 24, 2016

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Disclaimer: This review contains spoilers and references to haunting 19th-century poetry

Once upon a Sunday dreary, while I lounged, weak and weary,
Dull and drowsy on the cool floor —
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one texting, texting on my iPhone 4.
“’Tis some spammer,” I muttered, “texting on my iPhone 4—
Only this and nothing more.”

 

Ah, on that summer evening so blistering and bleak;
I blossomed like a sycamore, as I read that iPhone 4
It was the best news of the week;—an episode leak!
Hail George Martin, Pirate Bay and HBO—
Hail them all for evermore.

 

And so I hungrily embraced this illicit gift*
Trembling with joys and terrors of episodes four;
I watched Brienne and Sansa linger, in a secluded room with Littlefinger
“Exit, ladies, run out of the door—
Do you not remember what this man has done before?
He cares only for himself, no one more.”

 

But Lady Stark has grown stronger; hesitating then no longer,
She did not weep, wail or implore;
She assaulted Littlefinger, with zinger after zinger
And sent him scurrying for the door,
Oh, how that made me roar!
The North remembers, evermore.

 

After Sansa and Jon, the Kingsmoot of the ironborn
Ah, how I growled, the Iron Islands have been such a bore!
But not this week, the writing was sleek;
And I cheered as Euron Greyjoy came to the fore —
(After nearly drowning on shore)
What is dead may die, nevermore.

 

Across the seas, the thrill does not cease
As a Girl attempts to shed the saintly days of yore;
And eunuch and halfman; continue to plot and plan;
The Sons of the Harpy have halted the gore
Now a new red priestess is spouting lore—
(Unclasp that necklace, nevermore.)

 

Then this marvelous episode beguiling, my nervous fancy into smiling,
By the greyscale that Jorah could no longer ignore,
His beloved khaleesi, finally went easy
And tearfully demanded that he cure his infected sore—
Can the Andal actually score?
Flee the friendzone, evermore!

 

Great adventures these all, but the greatest by far is Beyond the Wall
As the Three-Eyed-Raven was having a snore,
Bran went visioning alone; the fool should have known—
That he’d run straight into the Night’s King and his corps
The King is on his way, the cave is in uproar
Winter is coming, evermore!

 

The Children in fright, set a blaze alight
Oh, what ghastly terrors are in store?
Bran must make haste, there isn’t time to waste—
The Raven must pass on promises of morrow and secrets of yore—
“Am I ready?” Bran croaks. “Am I ready for more?”
Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”

 

Then the air grows denser, heavied by an unseen censer
Swung by the Other whose foot-falls grate on the tufted floor.
And so the cave of the weirwood walkers is set upon by White Walkers
The protege takes flight as the King lays sword to the mentor;
Can no saviour, no messiah, no samaritan be called for?
Will winter rule for evermore?

 

There is but one hope, to yet deny the King’s wintry grope
He is the gentle giant we all adore—
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted youth whom the angels name Wylis—nay, Hodor!
Clasp a rare and radiant youth whom the angels name Hodor.”
Spare his innocence, for evermore!

 

“Be that word our sign of parting,” Meera shrieks, upstarting—
As she flees with Bran into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore,
“Let none through as a token of the devotion thy soul hath all these years spoken!
 Let your broken prince of Winterfell pass unbroken, and then hold the door!
Holdthedoorholdthedoorholdthedoorholdthedoorholdthedoorholdthedoor
Hold the door, for evermore.”

 

And that faithful friend, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
In the swirling winds of winter outside that door
And his eyes have all the seeming of an angel that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
A fallen giant on the floor
He’ll hold that door for evermore.

Overall Rating: 5 / 5 Stars

*Indian Nerve does not watch pirated media. We do not encourage or condone piracy. The author’s allusion to the same in the review is merely a case of humorous and poetic license. To tell you the truth, he doesnt really have an iPhone 4 either.

1 Comment

  1. Pingback: Westworld, Season 1 Episode 7 – ‘Trompe L’Oeil’ | Review – But They Have the Soft Hearts of Women | Indian Nerve

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