the generation of strength
a low burning flame
a need to say what needs must be said

a cauldron
furnace
soul of Man

poetry of language
a spear
a roaring fire.

We left footsteps on the moon together
An imprint of our souls
Stamped in immovable ink

But our walk was short lived
Because you got tired of stumbling
Stum - bi - ling
Over the pebbles
That blocked our steps

I tried to remind you
That every step we took
Was history
But history meant
Less
          and
                   less
The more there was to look back upon

It wasn't enough anymore
So you ran
Before we could continue walking together
And new craters consumed you
Before I could catch up

When you were long buried
I tried to collect the essence of our prints
But the moment I touched them
They unraveled to dust
Erasing what should have remained
Forever

So each time I reached
Each time I grasped for us
Our history became
Less
          and
                   less
Until there was nothing left to look back upon

Not like you would have turned around anyway
Because you were too busy
Creating new craters
With new others
To see the pieces of soul we left behind

Maybe it meant nothing to you
But I still keep a handful of dust
In the bottom of my pocket
To remind me of the way
We left footsteps on the moon together
Footsteps that vanished
Into nothing but dry particles

Dust
For someone else to walk on.

Tread softly as you venture into the dark mist of love and lust.
Searching out that moment of heat that brings passion.