Upon a desolate shore,
Footprints in the sand are as forlorn
as a wolf speaking in tongues,
Orchids asunder and scattered
throughout the woodlands,
Creating a pathway for the lost
Crows nestled into the branches
of the tallest trees,
Wild dogs burrowing into the snow
For relief from the bitter cold
Only to discover, lo and behold,
just as all these things offer sanctuary,
So footfalls upon the shore are more than temporary,
their imprints having more of an affect on those passingby
Who, unbeknownst to them, through the elapsing of time
Learn all things, whether magnificent or mundane, wither and die.