The Footprint

What is a footprint

Besides a mark on the terrain?

An outline,

A depression,

A thoughtless signature…

We tell ourselves

The mud

Has moved around us,

The sand

Parted

Like the sea;

Disillusionment

Draped across our shoulders

Like weightless adornment

As we idolize our achievements,

Feeding on them

And growing thinner…

We are only muscle now,

Pushing and pushing;

Our bones were too defined

For us to believe them,

And so we moved away

From the comfort

Of submission,

Now expecting all we tread on

To remember us

With reverence.