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AI Conquers Westeros: Fans Craft Final Game of Thrones Books

In the realm where dragons and code conspire,
Fans, with hearts as fierce as wildfire,
Awaited the tales, as the night grew dire,
To AI they turned, their hopes climbing higher.

“George R.R. Martin, from the North to the Tower,
A decade we’ve watched, as the petals fell from the flower.
Your silence, as cryptic as a maester’s bower,
To the bots we turn, in this desperate hour.”

Liam Swayne, a knight from the Vale’s domain,
Summoned ChatGPT, breaking the chain.
“Winds of Winter”, “A Dream of Spring”,
The AI penned, with dragon’s wing!

Characters breathed, not today said death’s hand,
A twist in the tale, across Westeros’ land.
In Martin’s realm, where winter’s snows stand,
The AI chose life, a song so grand.

The show’s end, left fans colder than the Wall,
Rapid tales spun, like leaves in the fall.
But the AI’s saga, echoed through the hall,
A finale reborn, answering the call.

Martin’s silence, deeper than the Hound’s grudge,
While for “The Winds”, the world wouldn’t budge.
Yet in this wait, a new king did judge,
With AI-crafted tales, that wouldn’t smudge.

So raise a horn of ale, to the fans who dared,
To AI, the scribe with a lion’s haired.
And to Martin, the raven that aired,
In the end, every throne must be shared.