Fading footprints

It is said in many cultures that a man dies twice. Once when he dies physically. And the second time, when the last trace of his memory is gone. And this is a story about one such man, who thinks of the second death. He thinks of the person who would be the last person remembering him.

Laying under the starry skies
I often think of him
Neither do I know where he is?
Nor when he would be

He shall live in this world
Long after I leave it
But not entirely gone
It is in his hands now

He might be my savior
Or the one who kills me
He is the last living person
Who shall ever remember me

Before him is a choice
That which affects me, not him
To grant me my death
Or increase my immortality

Will he choose to keep me alive?
How can I be sure of it?
Or will he grant me my death?
How can I be sure of this?

I walked on the sands of time
Hoping to leave a trail
To guide the travelling, weary souls
Of those coming after I’m gone

How does a single footprint
stand against the tide of the ocean
How does a single memory
compare to the rush of memories

Each footprint of mine
As I walked on the sands of time
Started fading behind me
Erasing the trace of me forever

And there lie my footprints
Fading, in the sands of time
Like the trace of my existence
Fading away from the world I called HOME



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