Scattered RealityTake a look in the mirrorWhat do you seeOur forgotten chancesA million opportunitiesWhat if you had taken that pathWould you still be here with meOr would I be alone in the broken mirrorWith only the scattered reflectionsOf what isn't meWould you have followed your dreamsWould you have opened your wingsIf you had never entered my realityCould you have formed your ownTake a look at our ReflectionIn a crystal water poolThe beauty of distorted lightsDo we even want to tryto fix the shattered pictureFor now we sit togetherViewing each otherActing as one in those many mirrorsThose different ImagesThat ar
White DragonOn the Topmost story of our house lies a room. Now, it is dark and cold, the windows always shuttered. Art supplies lay scattered across paint-smeared tables and a half-finished painting stands in one shadowy corner. Its dull eyes stare out from the canvas, waiting for someone to come and pick up a paintbrush, to add color to its feathers and bring life to its black eyes. The original creature can no longer do so. This room was once filled with a warm yellow light, cheerful and inviting. The user would sit for hours, completing some project or showing her children how to hone their own skills. Nimble fingers stroked colors into a plain can