Beware The Single Prints

My foot fell,
In the blackest
Of puddles.
Small it seemed.
Nothing unusual.
Until I had walked on
Many miles and more.
Still I dripped and
Trailed black water.
And nothing I found,
Could dry or stop
This leak, that now
Came straight from
My pale skin.
Even to this very
Day I am known
By my single
Dark step.
And cursed for
Having one foot
In a watery
Grave.

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