If every footstep we took can tell tales maybe they'd remind us the places we've been.
And the toes would tell us the deeds, words and acquaintance we left.
And our eyes would gaze us the sights, youth and faces we captured.
And our nostrils flared to reminiscence at the senses that puts us back in time.
Just with it pointing to the sky, questions the just of such revivals.
And with our heads bloated that seeks its relevance.
The feet now tell no more tales and the dead eyes forever asleep.
The paralysed mind and charred senses.
And oblivion to us the death of our intelligence.
The only relevance is the greatness of a heart to walk it and
The greatness of our minds to learn its legacy.
