The word "Myrran" is borrowed,
From a game I liked to play
Still do from time to time,
A fantasy, with magic and elves,
And orcs and that sort of thing.

Master of Magic –
Conqeur the two parellel realms
Of Arcanus and Myrror –
One like the mundane human world,
The green earth,
The blue sea –
And the other

Burried in darkness
Like the shadowy reflections
That scatter the earth after a night of rain –
The land is gray
And the sea sparkles
Like the night sky.

Just a game?

This shadowrealm,
The place we recede to
In our deepest slumbers –
Where we wander away to
When our thoughts drift through the stars.

I hear it, hidden in our songs,
When lost in the winding words of a story
Transfixed in the movements of a painting

Glimpse it as the winds blow
And the forest floor is painted
In a mosaic sway of shine and shade
And the trees creak against the might
Of the coming storm.

My imagination maybe,
But no "just."

That is the Myrran.

–浪漫ロマン (RDreher)