Cobblestoned streets and lantern-lit eves;
Stoned castles of the High and Might,
Rivers of ink carrying words with their flow
And wafts of parchment; in the air.
Ruby-red roses and the greenest of greens-
Vibrant riots of color; all around,
Melodies of strums, the merriment of folk
And the knights’ dragons; asleep in their lairs.
There lies the fabled Crown of Glass,
And centaurs in the heart of the forest,
Brave Emperors on horses; with their quivers and daggers,
And the monstrous villain; spying out of sight.
Fairies walk amongst the humans and weres,
There are mages weaving spells for a coin,
Eulogies and sonnets from someone in love;
A lonely elegy, in the dead of night.
This world runs on its Fountains of Ink,
And the everlasting flow of words,
Of the earthly scents and wonders of life
And the beauty of borne sentiments.
Let me take a vial, back to my world
From this beautiful Land of Ink,
Let it shape the true tints and hues of life,
Let it heal Earth’s monochromatic rift.
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