The Magical World of Zavonta
The secret realm within the earth,
A magical world between two seas.
A door leading to a mystical plain,
The hidden entrance locked without keys.
The world of Zavonta beneath our feet,
With a green sky and yellow hills.
A city of gold lies at its centre,
Surrounded by fields, dotted by mills.
No clouds floating idly by,
No flowers growing under feet.
The world of Zavonta runs on pure magic,
No carbon footprint to produce its heat.
The sprawling city never sleeps,
With all the residents flying so free.
But not in a plane or a helicopter,
All they need is a cup of magic flying tea.
Witches and wizards to you and me,
But the Zavontans look quite ordinary.
No long silver beards or black hats,
Just a slight glow like a bright white shiny fairy.
The people belong to two huge families,
Extended throughout all time.
One believed in the over lords,
The other worshiped the blessed mime.
All was not well in this magical realm,
A war was brewing between the two clans.
Talks had failed without agreement.
The golden city was split Into the old badlands.
A magical arms race soon ensued,
Each side conjuring bigger weapons.
More and more casualties did arise,
Zavontas history was soon rewritten.
On earth this war was felt,
With earthquakes and volcanos too.
Human life was forever changed,
Overshadowing the horrors of world war two.
For five years this family feud was raging,
Growing in magnitude till one thing thrived.
The imperceptible idea of a little child,
That mimes and over lords both hadn’t arrived.
Part Dalek 