Left Behind

By the peeling paint I sat,
The rain water seeped through the old wall
Dripping like tears of the temple
That was left unnoticed to ruins by time
By the ruined temple where we once met
I decided to look for your mark.
The puddles have washed away your footsteps
The water too refuses to dry up
I even wanted to wait to dig up your footprint
Only to let a gravedigger steal it away from my hands
What’s a dead footprint anyway,
When I cant see them dance?
So I sat and cried another puddle to fill your empty grave.
When my footsteps left the ground
I hear yours ring a bell
From the locked church tower in the misty eyes of god
But what can a feet less cripple do
But hope that may be someday
Ill find wings in the passing wind
So that at least for a second
I could see your reflection sheen upon the ringing bell
And sigh to myself of what it was.