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Strolling pass ruins and massive structures of passed age, looking out for any hint of human presence. All was found were well kept stone statues of great people that were once living. One statue had a name of Marco.P and another had Stanford.R. Magnificent explorers that sailed the seas! There was even Qian Long and Kang Xi! Ancient Chinese kings! All was recognized but one. The statue covered by the bushes, overgrown with moss and weed. The face was hidden behind the overgrowing vines that spread throughout. Cracks covered the faded name plate. It was hard but was able to make out J.Chris. Who is J.Chris? John Christopher? Who? Why was his statue forgotten by everyone and left here to decay but still included amongst all the statues of great mens? There was a hole after the letter s. Like something was suppose to be nailed there.

A sound! There was a sound from a ruin close by! Running to the direction of the ruin, the sound suddenly stopped. A stone tablet estimating 5 feet high stood at the doorway of the ruin. Words carved right into the body of it.

A lost trumpet sounding from the far horizon.
Reminding hearts about the great work done.

The love that could fall down like rain.
Washing the veil off the covered eyes.

Did the world make you forget the t?
Do you remember the man on the t?

Forget the t? What is this t? As the rest of the letters were curved into the tablet, the t wasn't. It was nailed onto it. It was shaped more like a cross than a t. At the foot of the tablet, there was another t laying on the grass and a nail beside it. It looks like it belonged to the dirty broken statue. But where? Who was he?

What was forgotten?