Footprints

Every day she comes to you
and kneels by the stone,
the cold hard stone that marks the place,
where you sleep alone.
she brushes snow from off your grave,
and lays a soft red rose,
at the foot of your frozen bed
were the chill wind blows.
So soft it's petals shun the sky,
the blackened sky of dread,
so beautiful and yet, so shy,
it lingers on your bed,
it's crimson fragrance bleeds so soft,
upon the gray and brown,
even in the winters chill,
the color lights the ground
Tears of crystal shine like stars
upon its crimson lips,
set alight and glowing bright,
by the dancing moon eclipse.
standing up she walks away,
her foot falls becoming slow,
she turns and her eyes alight upon
her footprints in the snow.
and were upon her feet did tread,
the ground is set a glow,
with beautiful flowers of crimson red,
pushing through the crystal snow.