A peasant asked his king,
Not as if he were an oracle...

Broken mirrors and paper planes,
Driving down empty highway lanes...

Two lives, so different,
bound separate paths yet...

I peer upon the silver moon,
The clouds so gracefully loom...

What would you do if I told you,
The the one you love is my enemy...

Broken and shattered,
Like the shards of a dream...

I stared out of my bedroom window,
Watching the drifting flakes of white...

We met that day,
And became good friends...

Fish,
Colorful, fun...

A tear fell down my cold, red cheek...
Laying in the snow, so weak...

Separated for seemingly forever,
Perpetually lost and never found...

Love to make you weak,
Loss to make you cry in pain...