The footsteps still remain. Though no one cared to ask why they do. Why they were left there in the first place. Ontology... such a nice brutish sounding word... The science of existence. Lemme explain.
The footprints remain 'cause there is no wind to blow it away and cover it with fine silt.
They remain 'cause there are not many who care to walk barefoot and walk on sand, and wipe away mine.
I left my footprints 'cause i forgot to take them away with me, and they were too innocent, unlike memories, to cling onto me.
My footprints exist 'cause i pressed my existence upon this earth, and the sand wielded.
My footprints remain 'cause i wish to be remembered, though not for the person that i am, but for the mere fact that i did walk and leave it there.
My footprints remain because, at times, flesh is tougher than million fragmented crystals of silica that bend down in supplication; 'cause sand worships life.
And i left my footprints 'cause i hoped, someday someone could place theirs in mine and walk to the same far horizon that swallowed up my lonely figure.
They remain... waiting... and remembering...
