i cannot find myself in

this old mirror, but i

see a reflection in the

puddle by the

training arena as i pass

by, i am sad today but

in this puddle all i see

is me. i am finding

myself slowly. this

old mirror in my cabin

is nothing compared

to the memory of the

water, that rises up to

its sun in the sky, and

falls back down to try

again on his own

in the deepest darkest

parts of the sea. or, in

this case, the training

arena. it rises and falls

just to rise again and

become the ocean. it

only needed a little bit

of help.