A Deserted Shrine

The sound of footsteps echoes on the stair,
an open window lets in ocean breeze,
the smell of incense lingers in the air.

You might expect to find some people there.
The altar-rug still bears the prints of knees,
the sound of footsteps echoes on the stair.

There's no-one in this building anywhere,
no figures walking under rustling trees.
The smell of incense lingers in the air.

The ash is warm; all evidence declares
it just abandoned, this temple by the sea.
The sound of footsteps echoes on the stair.

The shrine's attendants gone, it seems; but where?
No sign of accident, or quarrel, or disease...
the smell of incense lingers in the air.

Some mysteries remain unsolved for e'er.
Some wandering ghosts are still in search of ease.
The sound of footsteps echoes on the stair,
the smell of incense lingers in the air.