Sparkatale

Far away from the world’s eyes

Beyond all the truths and the lies

There’s a secret place

Known for its lovely grace

Full of minds filled with ability

It is called mighty dark valley

There is no place such as this valley

This valley made of both reality and imaginary

Where the magnificent illusion and the ugly truth meet

Where the dreadful and the horrible can be sweet

A warren of ideas and tales

Meanders of thinking and emotions

In this long way some choose to walk

All the times in the mean world they could barely talk

For those who write

Poems, stories

There is this room where they can sit

Under the sun and surrounded by roses

Though, the hearts there are often torn

And the roses might be full of thorns

Most of time madness does reign

When obscurity begins to stain

No noise, no disturbance

Only bittersweet thoughts flowing in complete silence

And let their words drain, does the writer

By beautifully bleeding on a piece of paper

So, a vision of flea

Or a frame so heavenly

There is for those who write

This place called mighty dark valley