Fate fills each page,
As I sleep
And hope that the new day
Brings something delightful.

But this world is strange
Quite strange,
Sometimes bittersweet
And the other times, a delicate line
Between extremely pretty
And delightfully dirty.

They say that mirror shows the real face of people right?
But even the mirror is strange,
Instead of reflecting a real image
It reflects a virtual one.

Why is it that the unexpected has to accepted?