The footprints
Description
The walls has ears they say, there was a little misconception, everything around us has ears. Like the winds, they carry messages across, so nothing is truly private until it is not spoken at all. This post "footprints" says, be careful, you're being watched.
Every step leaves a footprint, no matter how small
Maybe victories are not meant to be shared, the uproars and shouting are enough. With every win is a new enemy formed, not an unknown, but the known, someone who sits on the same feasting table as you, laughing and raining praises of your victory, counting the ruins you've taken. Beyond their glittering teeths and chants are intentions to erase the paths on which your victory lies. Listen to that voice that says watch your back, because your steps are being followed. Every step leaves a footprint, this is a sinister life has left behind every man. Behind every glory are haunters who desire to know whose footprints lies behind the shores of walkers, guard your loins, set aside your battle axes, because, above your strength, your will is a strong tool.
Here is a little story of a fellow whose pride only brought more trouble his way. A lad who grew up timid, unnoticed by princes and noble men finds his way through the thick fogs and made for himself name. It felt so good to be recognised, felt even better to stay at the top where the world could see him. His glory and victory spread abroad, from cities to towns and villages, even the beast who lived beneath the earth heard of his name. The Lad who had found his purpose couldn't wait to introduce himself among men who he was, what a relief it brought to him to know nobles, princes and royals knew of him, but his footprints only attracted upon him enemies. The beast beneath the earth and the fowler roared in anger and sought to destroy him, but the only way they could know of his marvelous strength was to first become a friend, disguise in sheep clothing, waiting for the right moment to strike, and without missing a shoot. They made the Lad drunk in his glory and accomplishments, but in every flattering words were swords with blazing edges to end all he boasted about. On few ocasions he asked, “How did you know of this?” And it's often the same answer “Every step leaves a footprint, no matter how small”. The Lad met his end way too late to recognise his footprints were spies for his enemies.
Not every glory is meant to be shared, not every step is meant to be recorded. Watch the path you trend, there might be footprints so small, yet , all that the enemy needs.
